Double Trouble
by Masterius
Summary: When Sunset Shimmer decides to return to Equestria to right past wrongs, neither she nor her friend Princess Twilight Sparkle could possibly imagine the series of events that would begin with having Twilight stranded in the other world, or the challenges that Sunset Shimmer -still new to friendship- would face in Equestria as she struggles to bring Princess Twilight back.
1. Prologue

"No doubt about it Spike; there's definitely something strange going on at that school."

From behind her Spike lifted his muzzle up from his bowl of bone-shaped kibble and barked several times in response, stubby tail wagging back and forth. When she didn't say anything else he lowered his head back down and returned to busily eating.

Twilight Sparkle nudged her glasses back up her nose as she intently gazed at the cork board in front of her. Tacked or taped to it were quite a few photos, graphs, charts and readouts, and even a small prism. Along with all of that were a hefty sprinkling of yellow pushpins, all of them connected by what _appeared_ to be a haphazard connection of thick red yarn.

But appearances could be deceiving.

Dead-center of the cork board –and, not-so-incidentally, pinned to the board by the exact middle pushpin- was a photograph of the school in question. _That_ school. The one that every cord originated from, radiating outwards like the spokes of a wheel.

And a school which Twilight was _extremely_ familiar with.

After all, she'd attended it once.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"It'll be OK. Honest."

Twilight gazed back at Sunset Shimmer, who had hesitated behind her. Both of them were standing at the rear of the statue in front of Canterlot High School which, to most eyes was just that: a mere statue. But as the both of them were very well aware, it could be far more than just a "mere" statue. In fact, both Princess Twilight Sparkle and Sunset Shimmer, due to their past studies and innate abilities, could sense the portal that invisibly gleamed before them.

This was not the first time, or even second time, that Sunset Shimmer had been present when the portal had been active. It was, however, going to be the first time she was going to be passing through it from this side since the consequences she'd suffered –both disastrous and wondrous– from stealing Princess Twilight's crown.

Passing through it . . .

. . . and into Equestria.

Equestria. The world of her birth.

It was also, to her shame, the world where she'd made some of the worse decisions in her life. The land where she'd willingly chosen to follow an extremely selfish, extraordinarily dark, path. The land she'd willingly decided to leave, choosing a life of temporary exile in exchange for the pursuit of power and glory and adoration.

The key word there, of course, being "temporary". For Sunset Shimmer had always intended to return to Equestria, and _not_ as any sort of prodigal filly, either!

No. No, she'd always intended to return as a conqueror, deposing her former teacher and Equestria's ruler, Princess Celestia, and taking the reins of power and control into her own hooves.

In fact, if it hadn't been for the efforts of Twilight Sparkle and her friends, Sunset Shimmer would have succeeded; achieving, at the very least, the level of power she'd always craved.

She shivered, running hands up and down upper arms, her leather jacket providing no warmth at all against feeling as if a cloud had just covered the sun and plunged her into deep, icy shadows. Yes. _Oh_ yes! She'd finally attained the power she'd always known was her due.

And in doing so had almost forever lost the pony she'd once been.

_Would_ have lost herself to the monster she'd become.

Except for Twilight Sparkle and her friends.

Who, miracles of miracles, were now also _her_ friends!

Not only did they not hold her past –as Rarity put it, "boo-boos"- against her, but they'd actively forgiven her _and_ extended their friendship to her.

That would have been wonderful in and of itself, but they had been equally determined to help others come to learn of, and accept, her contrition and change of heart. That hadn't been easy and, to be honest, things had been quite rocky for a while. But after the events of the "Battle of The Bands" . . . after the very clear and unmistakable evidence of Sunset Shimmer's remorse and determination, her classmates' and teachers' viewpoint had undergone a very significant change.

Oh, there were still some that remained a bit standoffish to her. Then again, even the Magic of Friendship didn't automatically make every person best friends with everyone. But by the time the school year had wound down Sunset Shimmer could honestly say that everyone had –if not forgotten- at least forgiven her for her past actions.

But while she'd confronted all of her past –excuse the pun- demons _here_, in this world, there remained quite a few more lurking in her closet. _There_.

There. In Equestria.

The chill seemed to intensify, her skin goose-bumping.

Twilight seemed to understand what was going on inside her. She turned fully around, stepped up to her and gave Sunset Shimmer a gentle yet firm hug. "Honest, it'll be OK," she repeated. Then she stepped back, resting her hands atop Sunset Shimmer's shoulders, and softly said, "If you've changed your mind that's OK, too. Nothing says we have to do this _now_, you know."

Sunset Shimmer nodded. "I know. But I'm afraid if I bail now I'll never have the courage to face this again."

Twilight Sparkle snorted. "One thing you're _not_ short on is courage, Sunset Shimmer. We've all seen that!"

Sunset Shimmer ducked her head, feeling her cheeks heat up. By now, between months of writing back-and-forth with Twilight and conversations with their mutual friends, Sunset Shimmer knew an awful lot about Twilight, and all that she'd experienced. So having Twilight tell her that _she_ was brave was quite the compliment!

In fact, one of the (many) results of those back-and-forth messages, and of the conversations and tales told by the others (even if Pinkie Pie's needed to be taken with a –often large- dose of salt), was that Sunset Shimmer now possessed a very clear idea of _who_ Twilight Sparkle was, and what she'd endured.

Or, more accurately –and respectfully- _Princess_ Twilight Sparkle.

One of many things she'd learned had been that, in numerous ways, she'd been very much like Princess Twilight. Both of them loved learning. Both of them were magically powerful, wayyyy above and beyond most unicorns. Both of them had valued scholarly pursuits, and lessons, and learning, above anything else, including socialization and friendship.

And both of them had once been Princess Celestia's personal, private student. Her protégé, even.

There had also been one crucial lesson that both of them had had difficultly learning, and that was the value of friends and friendship. And, in Sunset Shimmer's case, that had been compounded both by a lack of humility as well as a sense of entitlement. She'd _known_ she was meant to be an Alicorn Princess. _Known_ she was meant to even rule Equestria!

Even now Sunset Shimmer cringed, recalling in exquisite detail _exactly_ what she'd said to Princess Celestia the last time they'd spoken, the spiteful words she'd thrown in her face.

And now she about to return to Equestria and visit her former mentor, something that she'd once sworn she'd never, ever do, unless it was to return in victory, deposing her, kicking her off the throne and assuming the position of ruler of Equestria.

Even though that had definitely changed, Sunset Shimmer still had no real desire to return to Equestria. She had no friends there and, honestly, no true, good memories either. She'd alienated everyone on her quest for power and entitlement, and much as she'd like to erase those memories from her mind she knew keeping them were valuable as lessons to remember. _Painful_ lessons at times, yes, but valuable nonetheless.

Here, though . . . here she had friends. She'd _earned_ her place here. She had a future here, and one that was bright and wonderful. That still surprised her, for there had been a time when the only future that mattered to her was power and privileges. Here the only thing she could absolutely count on, depend on, was her friends and the power of their shared friendship . . . and Sunset Shimmer had come to realize, _and_ accept, that that was more valuable to her than the throne of Equestria could ever be.

So, for the most part, Sunset Shimmer was content to leave Equestria as a part of her past. However . . .

Twilight just stood there, patient and supportive in her silence. She was quite certain she knew what was running through Sunset Shimmer's head at the moment, although she admitted to herself that, try as she might, she really couldn't properly imagine what Sunset Shimmer had to be thinking about.

Which was meeting Princess Celestia again.

Princess Twilight's heart had been fit to burst when Sunset Shimmer had, albeit somewhat diffidently, broached the possibility of, some day, meeting with Princess Celestia. Sunset Shimmer had confided that her words and actions to Princess Celestia had been increasingly weighing on her, especially as the Magic of Friendship had continued growing and flourishing inside her. As time passed Sunset Shimmer understood more and more just how patient, kind, and loving Princess Celestia truly had been, and because of that she'd also grown to understand just how terrible her words and actions must have wounded her teacher and mentor. With the insight the Magic of Friendship had gifted her Sunset Shimmer could replay all that had passed between them with fresh eyes, and realized just how awful, how horrid, how wicked and evil a filly she'd been. And how much pain Princess Celestia must have felt when she'd been left no choice but to expel Sunset Shimmer, both as her personal student and from the Castle itself.

Or how much pain she must have felt once she'd realized Sunset Shimmer had hated her so much that she'd willingly chosen to leave Equestria for a world that she'd known nothing about.

Or how much heartache she felt each and every time she thought about her former student.

Which, as Sunset Shimmer plainly knew, was quite often, for Princess Twilight had, when asked, been completely honest about things.

What made it even worse was that Princess Celestia wasn't prying. It wasn't as if she was asking about Sunset Shimmer because she worried about what sort of evil, nefarious plans she might be plotting or carrying out. Oh _no_. That wasn't it _at all_. Instead, her former teacher and mentor asked about Sunset Shimmer's health. Her feelings. Was she adapting well? Was she happy? Was she settling in OK?

Sunset Shimmer's vision blurred a bit as tears spangled her view. Princess Celestia had never given up on her student, long after she had had so many good reason to have done so. She'd _believed_ in Sunset Shimmer. She'd _cared_ about her.

And still did.

Which is why Sunset Shimmer had finally decided to make at least this one trip back to Equestria. She wasn't sure how long she'd stay, or if she'd ever return again after this, but she was going to make at least _this_ one trip.

Because she owed it to her teacher and mentor.

Because the Magic of Friendship had shown her the price of Sunset Shimmer's betrayal of Princess Celestia's trust and belief in her.

This visit wasn't going to be easy for her, _that_ much Sunset Shimmer was sure and certain about. Then again, few things that involved emotions were easy, because emotions were quite often intense. The fact that she'd been entirely in the wrong about everything while Princess Celestia had been entirely correct was unpleasantly distressing, too. Add in the fact that Princess Celestia had only been loving in her concern, mix all of that together and you had a recipe guaranteed to make Sunset Shimmer feel like an inch-tall foal.

She felt her lips suddenly twitch. _At least she never saw me as a raging she-demon_, she thought to herself. But then she grew sober and serious. Yes, it had been truly awful those first few months after the Fall Formal debacle. Having to see -having to be with, having to interact with- all her classmates every school day, that had _seen_ her turn into that . . . had, for that matter, been turned into zombies _by her_ . . . hadn't been easy, no. Nope, not easy at all. And if it hadn't been for the friendship that Fluttershy, Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash had extended to her, "not easy" would have been "impossible", instead. They were a warm, welcome refuge that embraced her in a loving, supportive hug whenever she'd needed one. Which had been a lot in the beginning.

But she'd never had any emotional connection with her classmates back then. They'd been nothing but pawns to her. At best cat's-paws, and at worst expendable cannon fodder. She'd known their strengths and weaknesses, but those were only important to her as ways and means of manipulation.

But she _did_ have an emotional connection with Princess Celestia.

She'd been a student of Princess Celestia's for _years_. Her _personal_ student.

They'd shared a relationship that had been so close an uninformed observer could have been forgiven if they'd assumed Princess Celestia and Sunset Shimmer had been mother and daughter rather than teacher and student. The Canterlot aristocracy and nobility certainly hadn't been unaware! In fact, most of them had been green with envy at the access to, and relationship with, Princess Celestia that Sunset Shimmer had enjoyed. After all, how many of _them_ could say they'd enjoyed private picnics with her Highness? Had virtually complete and free access to the _entire_ Palace? Could, for just about any reason and at just about any time, waltz right up to Princess Celestia and request –and be _granted!_- an immediate conversation?

Sunset Shimmer had done an excellent job of forcing all those emotional feelings and connections into a teeny-tiny box deep inside her, locking them away into a place where she could conveniently ignore them. But she couldn't ignore them any more, not since she'd opened herself back up to _feeling_ again.

In the beginning she'd had to focus on the immediacy of dealing with school and classmates in the aftermath of the Fall Formal disaster, but the groundwork there was now firmly established. Sunset Shimmer didn't need to maintain constant focus there. And now that school was over for the year she could begin broadening her horizons, as it were . . . and that included righting old wrongs _everywhere_, to the best of her abilities.

She loved the friendship she had with all her friends, but they did make tough examples to follow. True, each of them had their own little flaws –who didn't, after all?- but their strengths . . . those _blazed_!

Sunset Shimmer often basked in the fiery power of their strengths and, amazingly, because of the friendship she shared with each of them, she shared those strengths with them. Not as powerfully, perhaps, but nevertheless it was there. And because of that Sunset Shimmer now could no more not try and right a wrong than any of them could.

Which didn't mean the experience was going to be pleasant.

Princess Twilight had, quietly yet sincerely, tried easing Sunset Shimmer's worries over that. Indeed, in addition the the many, many messages they'd exchanged, she'd taken two occasions to make time from her duties in Equestria to physically travel through the portal for no other reason than sit down and talk with Sunset Shimmer.

Alone.

Not to also visit with her other friends here, but to privately visit with Sunset Shimmer.

Because Sunset Shimmer needed a friend she could confide in, to consult with, to have an ear to listen and a shoulder to lean on.

Another tough act to follow.

As it turned out, though, facing Princess Celestia wasn't the only fear that worried Sunset Shimmer, although in this case terror was much _much_ closer to the mark. Once Sunset Shimmer had made the decision to accompany Princess Twilight back to Equestria, once that had become a done deal, she'd discovered another worry worming its way inside her.

When Sunset Shimmer had arrived here she'd been dismayed at the discovery that there was _no_ Equestrian magic, not even the smallest trace. She'd gone from being a creature whose power rivaled that of a true Equestrian Princess (even if Princess Celestia had refused to admit that or grant her the actual title) to someone no stronger than anyone else about her. But although she might lack the magic that had always been a part of her, Sunset Shimmer _hadn't_ lost a single iota of her cunning intellect or scheming nature. So, although she might, indeed, have been disarmed of her mighty arsenal of magic, in that arena she was just as dangerous as ever before.

Plus she'd also known exactly what was needed to regain all that she'd lost –and _more!_-, and exactly how to go about doing that, too!

However, it hadn't been until she'd placed Princess Twilight Sparkle's stolen crown containing the Magic Element of Harmony atop her head that Sunset Shimmer had felt the magic that she'd lost fill her again.

And, needless to say, _that_ hadn't turned out well at all.

Since then Sunset Shimmer hadn't had the feeling of her old power back, any more than she'd felt since she'd first come here. However, she _did _feel the Magic whenever she played music, the same that all of her friends did whenever they played. Well, played, or sang, or even sometimes _hummed_. It was a peculiar sort of Magic, one that apparently only manifested whenever it involved something melodic.

Because of its very nature, one firmly established in the Magic of Friendship, it was a power meant to be shared, meant to bring pleasure, fun, enjoyment. It wasn't one that should, or even _could_, be used for wicked, selfish ends.

Unlike the power Sunset Shimmer had once controlled.

Back in Equestria.

Where she was about to travel.

Sunset Shimmer wished she had as much faith in herself as all her friends had in _her_. If she had, she'd be feeling a lot more copacetic about her return!

Princess Twilight had assured Sunset Shimmer she'd no reason to fear anything. (Granted, she'd also admitted having no evidence, empirical or otherwise, to support her conclusion; Princess Twilight was nothing if not scrupulously honest when dealing with research.) She could still vividly remember Princess Twilight's soft violet eyes gleaming as she'd stated her trust in Sunset Shimmer. _"I don't know exactly what will happen, or even how it might happen_," she'd said. _"I know what it does with me, and how it feels. It's very odd coming here and, well, 'losing' my horn, and my magic. _That_ I notice, but it's not really something that stands out when I go home and I get both back. I guess because _that's _normal for me, and being human _isn't_, so for me becoming, and being, human is a bit unsettling. But for _you_, well, this is now your 'normal', so you'll likely feel odd at first when all those feelings come back to you. But I know that that really isn't what's worrying you." _Princess Twilight had paused a moment, her eyes gleaming even more intensely. _"You're scared that, once your magic comes back, so will everything _else_. All the things that made the _old_ Sunset Shimmer who she was."_

And that, indeed, was what was frightening Sunset Shimmer. She was terrified of the powerful temptations that old power could rouse in her.

But if _she_ was panicking over that, _Princess Twilight_ wasn't, for all she'd said at the end had been, _"But the old Sunset Shimmer is just that: _old_. _You've_ grown. There's far more to you now. Learn from the past, but don't let the past define who you are now. Trust in yourself. _I _do."_

One tough act after another!

Closing her eyes Sunset Shimmer took a deep breath, steeling herself. Opening them again she felt a sudden intense flood of warmth as Princess Twilight, not saying a word, just stood there, arm outstretched and hand open, a gentle, supportive smile on her face. Reaching out Sunset Shimmer took the proffered hand then felt a tingle as Princess Twilight gave it a gentle squeeze. "Ready?" she asked.

Sunset Shimmer took a second, even deeper breath, then nodded. "Now, or never!" she lopsidedly grinned. Both of them looked about, making sure no one was actually looking their way . . . then they stepped forward, passing at the same time side-by-side, together, through the portal.

Neither having paid any attention to the rather plain, white van parked just across the street.

* * *

><p>The drum of the integrated electronic piezoelectric accelerometer slowly revolved, the recording needle holding steady, tracing a thin red line down the center of the paper. Nearby sat a modified quantum gyroscope, at the moment detecting nothing unusual. Twilight Sparkle sat at the small table inside the cramped quarters of her mobile lab, nibbling the eraser nub of the pencil usually stuck into the bun at the back of her head. She was totally focused on her apparatus, all of which required constant fiddling as none of them were off-the-shelf items. In fact, virtually all of her devices were either built from scratch or heavily modified beyond their makers' wildest dreams.<p>

Which made sense, of course, as you couldn't find magic detectors and analyzers anywhere.

A very small part of her wanted, out of sheer frustration, to bite the pencil in half, but Twilight had long ago learned to control emotions, unruly things that they were. Emotions were disorderly, chaotic and undisciplined. Give her cool, clinical, orderly and organized facts and figures any day! She'd always believed that, and had spent her life so far honing that as her own personal philosophy.

Regardless of what others had tried telling her to do.

Still, at this moment it was harder than usual to remain cool and analytic. She'd waited months for school to let out for the year so she could bring her equipment there for on-site analysis, and now that she finally was here there was a girl just hanging out next to Canterlot's school statue by the main entrance. Why she was loitering there Twilight hadn't a clue, as in Twilight's experience most kids would want to be as far away from school as they possibly could.

Sighing in exasperation Twilight took a sip of herbal tea as she waited. Today had been a long time in coming, but she was certain that it would culminate in success, confirming her research and validating her doctorate thesis:

Magic: A Natural, Measurable Force.

It wasn't that people didn't believe in magic, precisely, because they did. The problem, as Twilight saw it, was that anything that produced results through mysterious influences or unexplained powers that wasn't (currently, any way) something that could be measured, or somehow explained, wound up being called "magic". Twilight simply didn't believe that the natural world could be that chaotic, that messy. There were Rules. Logic. Organization. Action A produces Result B. Pure and simple.

Twilight flat-out refused to believe that there was a force out there that _didn't_ follow logical rules. Granted, people might not know the rules, or understand how they worked, but that didn't mean those rules didn't exist.

For reasons Twilight couldn't understand, though, it seemed people felt that organization and rules weren't always necessary, and nowhere was that more clearly seen than in personal relationships and socialization. Take, for instance, the crystal-clear concept of honesty: speaking the, plain, unvarnished truth, stating pure, obvious fact. Nothing could be simpler than that! Yet when dealing with people it seemed the last thing they wanted to hear at times was honesty!

It hadn't been all that noticeable at first, but as Twilight had grown older and had been exposed to more and more people, she'd come to realize just how chaotic, even purposeless, relationships actually were. They took far more energy from a person than you got back, and they detracted you from more important things, like lessons, research and knowledge.

Especially when Twilight got the bit between her teeth when something interesting came along. When _that_ happened, anything that came between her and her studies not only exasperated her but could, under the right circumstances, actually infuriate her.

Twilight peeked through the small, dark-tinted window again, glancing at the statue once more. One of _those_ circumstances had happened here, in fact. She'd been a freshman at Canterlot High School at the time, but only because "society" –she disdainfully sneered at the term- had dictated that a girl her age had to be at that grade level. The thing was, Twilight had already, on her own, been pursuing online, college-level courses . . . and _passing_ them. Indeed, not only that, but had contacted several universities and colleges, applying for early admission.

Much to her delight she'd been provisionally accepted by one of the more prestigious ones, and one that was also local, too. She just needed a recommendation from her principal as one of the requirements, and that hadn't gone very well at all. Nudging her glasses back up Twilight scowled, emotions getting the better of her as _those_ memories surfaced.

She hadn't given the need for that requirement a second though –or a _first_ thought, for that matter. Twilight hadn't seen any reason for that to have been a difficulty, and so had walked into the meeting with Principal Celestia completely confident that the recommendation was already a done-deal.

Except that _Principal Celestia _hadn't seen it the same way.

Regarding anything of a scholastic nature she'd been more than willing to grant Twilight the highest of honors, which had greatly pleased her, even as expected as that had been. But, nonetheless, Principal Celestia had been reluctant to sign off on the required recommendation. And why?

Because she'd been concerned about Twilight's lack of social skills and interpersonal relationships!

Whether Principal Celestia had meant to do it, whether she'd known it or not –and that hadn't mattered to Twilight; not then, not now, and not _ever_- she'd made herself an enemy of Twilight's for life.

Principal Celestia _would not_ sign off on the recommendation.

For one of the very few times in her life, Twilight had flown into a rage. She'd pounded her fist on Principal Celestia's desk; she'd yelled loud enough that Vice Principal Luna had, alarmed, stepped into Principal Celestia's office. She had reveled in the shock and pain she'd seen in Principal Celestia's face as she coldly, clinically, dissected her to pieces. Not just the reservations Principal Celestia had presented, but Principal Celestia _herself_. Both Principal Celestia and Vice Principal Luna had been so stunned and shocked at the sheer venom and vitriol Twilight had thrown at them that both of them had been paralyzed speechless.

Twilight had stormed out of Principal Celestia's office when she'd finished her tirade. She'd no idea what she must have looked like, but she'd basked in an odd sense of pleasure when the entire hallway of students parted before her, like a school of panicked minnows before a shark, as she stalked off and headed out the front door, leaving school early.

There had been a fringe benefit to that outburst: from that moment on the entire school had shunned her, leaving her free from the annoying distractions of their feeble attempts at socializing with her. Considering how loudly, and how acidly, Twilight had denounced to Principal Celestia just how "valuable" she considered relationships and friendship, well, it hadn't surprised her that her outburst had been overheard and then gossip-spread throughout the school. And while other people might consider the cold shoulders she'd gotten as hurtful, Twilight herself had only seen that as an absolute positive.

By the end of her freshman year Principal Celestia had finally relented. It wasn't that she'd reconsidered Twilight's passionate pleas but that she'd unhappily accepted that Twilight had irreparably damaged any chance of establishing any sort of friendship with any of the students at Canterlot High School, and that, perhaps, just perhaps, she'd find the value of friendship with others that shared her level of academia and knowledge.

And so Twilight –_finally!_- was enrolled at Everfree University.

Within a year she'd earned her Bachelor's Degree. Within the next she'd earned her Master's Degree. And now, _this_ year, she was working on her doctorate.

Soft violet eyes glittered behind lenses as Twilight glanced again at the rearing horse statue in the school foregrounds. She no more believed in Fate or Destiny than she did in anything else except that of pure, clean Science, so finding that the largest incidence of detectable magic –by _far!_- was centered _here_ was almost nauseating. She'd almost believed that they'd found out about her research and were somehow tricking her with false signals. _Almost_ believed. Twilight softly snorted in disdain. There was, of course, no way anyone _there_ had the ability, know-how, skills or abilities to do that!

Which meant, naturally, that the data she'd painstakingly accumulated were real evidence!

In addition to the cold, hard facts her devices had accumulated, she'd also collected a great deal of anecdotal tales the last few months. She might have considered them as _tall_ tales, as _fables_, except that her detectors had also responded during those episodes. As well, even she had seen the blazing, double-helix rainbow that had towered up into the skies last Fall. So those tales, rather than making her feel skeptical had, in fact, whetted her beliefs.

This last month Twilight had patiently been taking up stations around the school, accumulating data and refining the harvested information, triangulating positions and vectors. To the best of her analysis and interpretations there were two loci: one, more general, was Canterlot High School itself, and a second, _much_ more focused, was that statue itself.

She'd just picked up her mug of herbal tea and was taking a sip when every device in the van went berserk. The cup went flying as Twilight jerked forward, utterly focused on her instruments, adjusting a dial there, a slide here, an antenna there. Within moments she'd refined the power and position of the signals, and wasn't really all that surprised to see it matched that of that statue. Whirling about Twilight peered through the tinted glass again, fervently hoping that that girl had left, and almost snarled seeing _two_ of them there now!

That grimace instantly vanished a moment later. _"Where did _she_ come from?"_ Twilight wondered, puzzled. She hadn't been there before, and it wasn't very likely she could have passed by Twilight without being seen. Granted, it wasn't _totally_ impossible, true enough. But it also wasn't very likely, either.

Returning to her apparatus Twilight could clearly see the energy signals were just as strong as ever. Whatever had just happened was obviously still happening, even if she couldn't tell at the moment just what that something was. But the one thing she was absolutely sure and certain about was that the energy she was detecting wasn't _anything_ that Science currently recognized! This was the breakthrough she'd been seeking!

Fiddling with the various devices Twilight continued refining the data streaming to them and, as she did, a dawning realization came over her. Not only was this energy something she'd become intimately familiar with over these last few months, but with a few minor adjustments several pieces of her measuring equipment could be adapted to generate and transmit, instead of receive, those same energy pulses!

Small fingers flew over the selected pieces of equipment as Twilight rapidly made the necessary adjustments. She'd just about finished when, with no warning, suddenly every remaining measuring device went silent.

"Oh _no!_" she cried out. "No no no _no no!_"

Whirling to the tinted window Twilight stared out then felt her jaw drop a bit. The scenery remained unchanged, nothing of obvious note having appeared or changed . . .

. . . except there was now _no one at all_ standing by that statue!


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

A gentle pink glow flickered and danced in the small circular room, that coruscating luminescence emanating from the strange apparatus centered there.

More precisely, emitting from the _mirror_ positioned there.

The mirror itself stood about four ponies tall and sat atop two flat, circular bases, the upper one slightly smaller in diameter than the lower. The edge of the lower base was decorated with embossed, deep purple horseshoes that faced heels upwards, while the upper base's edge was lightly scalloped. The mirror itself was held within the support that topped those bases, the frame a light purple, elongated horseshoe resting on its heels, the face decorated with a pattern of eleven pink tourmaline stones facet cut as oblong hexagons.

Atop the main mirror horseshoe frame was a crown-shaped crest. Mounted atop that, at very apex of the mirror, was a second horseshoe of the same color and material as the mirror frame. It was supported by wavy filigrees of the same deep purple as the lower base's horseshoe decorations, in such a way that it seemed to float in space. It was only one pony in height and inverted, its heels facing upwards, and enclosed in that smaller horseshoe frame was a mirror decorated with an engraved, stylized rearing pony. The heels of this horseshoe frame were connected by metal (which also fully enclosed the smaller, upper mirror) with a diamond-facet-cut pink tourmaline stone centered on it. The two outer edges of both horseshoe frames had wavy lattices matching the fretwork supporting the upper frame atop the lower.

Normally the polished face of the mirror showed the typical reflection of any other mirror . . . _normally_. However . . .

This was no normal mirror. This was the _Crystal Mirror_.

The flat face of the mirror was neither silvered glass nor polished metal. Instead, it was a lustrous slivered piece of burnished crystal, and while it functioned just the same as a normal mirror, under special circumstances and certain situations it did far more. Some ponies, when they gazed into its depths, saw returned to them much more than their mere reflection. Depending on the pony in question, this revelation could have profound consequences.

That, however, was only _one_ of its properties. Unknown to almost everypony was a very different, utterly unique, attribute: the Crystal Mirror was a _portal_, a gateway to another world.

Every thirty moons, one could _walk through_ the face of the Crystal Mirror and enter a world entirely separate from Equestria. And in many ways it was a very odd, quite weird world there, indeed.

That opening lasted only for a short time, though, a period of three days ending when the moon in that world reached its zenith on the night of that third day,

However, the Crystal Mirror wasn't the only item here.

The room itself was perfectly smooth and round, the wall and ceiling a smooth hemisphere about thirty paces in width. The floor, walls and ceiling were a soft, deep charcoal gray stone, almost smoky in appearance. The Crystal Mirror sat in the exact middle, and was partially surrounded by what could only be described as a "contraption".

Princess Twilight had originally built and assembled the device in her library, for that was where she'd first placed the Crystal Mirror when it had been entrusted to her care. However, its size ("large" and "clunky" described it quite well) pretty much filled up the library interior, and, well, Princess Twilight wouldn't have it _remain_ that way. Libraries were essential!

Most important, however, was that both the device and the Crystal Mirror needed to be moved to a place more private and much more secure . . .

. . . Because Princess Twilight no longer needed to wait thirty moons in order to pass through the portal gateway.

At the moment, perched at the very top of the device sat a thick, heavy book, settled into a niche exactly its size, whose cover was emblazoned with Princess Celestia's cutie mark. Its mate was currently in that other world; identical to this one save for being embossed with Sunset Shimmer's cutie mark on its cover. That one had been a gift to Sunset Shimmer from Princess Celestia back when she had been Princess Celestia's student and protégé. These were a very special pair of books, for whatever was penned on the pages of one book instantly appeared on the pages of the other.

Princess Twilight had never needed anything like that to communicate with her teacher, since all she'd ever had to do was have Spike pen her scrolls for her and then use his fiery breath to burn them up, and then magically send the ashes of the note to Princess Celestia. While anything that Princess Celestia wanted to send back Spike just burped up in a puff of green flame once Princess Celestia had "posted" it.

Normally this book was on the nightstand in Princess Twilight's bedroom, for that was where, in the evenings and before retiring to bed, she'd relax and keep up with any messages from Sunset Shimmer, one of her friends back in that other world. And against all odds –_especially_ considering how they'd first met!- Sunset Shimmer truly was one of Twilight Sparkle's friends. A very _close_ one, in fact.

There were aspects of Sunset Shimmer that Princess Twilight found very comforting. Familiar even. It was hard to describe, actually. In fact, there were times she suspected that Sunset Shimmer represented a facet of the Magic of Friendship that, somehow, the Elements of Harmony had inexplicably overlooked. She not only complemented her friends, Twilight included, but also seemed to _complete_ their group, too.

In no way was this more apparent than when they played together as a group. It was as if she catalyzed their power, somehow increased it beyond mere addition. As if, instead of it being seven _plus_ seven it was seven _times_ seven.

It also hadn't escaped Twilight's notice that the one time when their powers had truly meshed together, with Sunset Shimmer's being added to theirs, they had merged into a _true_ rainbow. Which, as anypony knew, was actually _seven_ prismatic colors, not six.

However, as curious as Twilight might be about Sunset Shimmer's potential aspects (and she was _very_ curious, indeed!), and what they might entail, she wasn't about to treat her as some sort of lab experiment. That didn't stop her, of course, from researching things from her end, examining every script, scroll, record and book she could find, hunting for any possible clue about a _seventh_ Element.

Of course, it could be as simple an explanation as that magic –or what passed for magic there, at any rate- operated quite differently there than it did in Equestria. After all, none of her friends in that world had ever possessed anything like the Elements of Harmony, yet they still were channels of the Magic of Friendship.

Then again, had they been imbued with that quality because of the power Twilight herself had managed to channel from the Magic Element of Harmony that had been in her stolen crown? That had been a rather busy and intense altercation that night, and Twilight could honestly say she wasn't absolutely positive of the exact sequence of events.

She was, however, absolutely positive of what had transpired during their battle with the Dazzlings: Adagio Dazzle, Aria Blaze and Sonata Dusk, sirens originally from Equestria but banished to that world by Star Swirl the Bearded. According to legend (and, more importantly, Twilight's own research) Star Swirl had banished them there because it was a world that had held no Equestrian magic. They would have no power there, and therefore could be of no harm to anypony. But due to the events that had transpired during Twilight's first visit there, somehow residual Equestrian magic did now exist there, a very _special_ magic: the Magic of Friendship, as personified by her friends Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash and Rarity.

And now, of course, Sunset Shimmer, too.

Because of her choices that night, because of her selfless actions and heroism, something awesome and amazing had transpired: The Magic of Friendship had reached out and embraced Sunset Shimmer. Bereft for years of the least dribble-drab of Equestrian magic, she'd once more been touched by that power, the visible sign of that being the manifestation of pony ears and "tail", the same as the other six displayed, whenever they played music.

Better say _remaining_ sign, for that night, visible to all to see, had been the astonishing, breathtaking sight of Sunset Shimmer's "color" being added to the others' colors streaming up into the sky.

Because she'd been standing right alongside Sunset Shimmer, virtually in touching distance (as they'd each been holding the same microphone) Twilight had had a ringside seat for what had happened . . . and the expression on Sunset Shimmer's face when it had.

Sunset Shimmer had been scared, no doubt about that. Nor did Twilight blame her, either. The sheer, raw, _blazing_ power the Dazzlings had focused on the Rainbooms had been terrifying and, at that juncture, Sunset Shimmer hadn't been included in that barrage. So when Twilight had stridently called out to her, telling Sunset Shimmer that they _needed_ her . . . needed _her_ . . . there was no way Sunset Shimmer could have mistaken what would happen if she answered that cry for help. She'd be making herself into a target, the same as the other six were.

The other six . . . who were _friends_ of hers.

And once she'd made that brave choice, once she'd committed to that, it had been an absolute, _total_ commitment. She'd not only taken a stance, chosen her side, but had literally thrown down the gauntlet, sang her defiance into their very teeth.

_You're never gonna bring me down _

_You're never gonna break this part of me _

And fling that fearless, resolute declaration back into their faces she had, indeed, done and, in doing so, had boldly proclaimed her stance to the entire world.

And, it appeared, to The Magic of Friendship as well.

Twilight had been looking right at Sunset Shimmer, and so had seen the exact moment of transformation. Sunset Shimmer had blinked, looking startled; then astonished, as if she _couldn't_ be seeing and feeling what was happening, as if she had to be mistaken. Then a moment of awestruck wonder and joy, a beatific smile slowly spreading across her face as her eyes gently closed, a soft glow on her face as she willingly surrendered.

Princess Twilight had seen an awful lot of magic in her life, but she thought that that particular moment in time was the most majestic, most profound she'd ever seen. It was certainly one she'd never forget.

The thing that had Twilight puzzled, and extremely curious, though, was what _else_ had happened. Had Sunset Shimmer simply displayed the pony ears and "tails" the rest of the group displayed when they played Twilight wouldn't have thought twice about that. The Magic of Friendship, after all, wasn't limited to simply the six Element of Harmony Bearers. Theirs was a close, special friendship, too and true, but it would be ridiculous to expect that they'd only ever be close friends to each other, and never include anypony else into their shared bond!

The six of them had been pouring their power into the counter-spell song, on a level more instinctive than deliberate, the visible manifestation of that being the columns of radiant light that had streamed up from each of them, merging into a cohesive whole. To anypony that had been present during the Fall Formal debacle and battle this manifestation would have looked quite similar to the one they'd seen at the Fall Formal; to Twilight there had been two substantial differences.

The first difference had been that, during their battle against Sunset Shimmer, their power had visibly appeared as a vivid, scintillating rainbow. A double-helix one at that, and one that had ascended into the sky before merging together and sending down a blazing rainbow bolt to blast Sunset Shimmer's demon form. While during their attack against the Dazzlings and against the spell of glamour the sirens had held their classmates under, although those colors had been just as pure and flawless, their intensity had been much less blinding. And although those shafts of monochromatic light had merged together as before, _this_ time they'd done so in a single column lancing skywards, one terminating in a roiling sphere of energy that ultimately culminated into either creating, or summoning, an Alicorn Avatar that had blasted the Dazzlings siren forms to flinders as well as irrevocably shattering the gems that were the focus of their power.

(At least Twilight _assumed_ that had been a alicorn. If so, it was the oddest, strangest looking one she'd ever seen!)

The second and, to her, more profound difference was that during the first battle it had been the six of them involved and no one else and nothing else. The Magic of Friendship had reached out to the six of them and, having been satisfied, had embraced each of them as the individual avatars of Friendship and Harmony, the same as if they'd been in Equestria. During the second battle there had been no sense of necessary, required, individual appraisal; they'd already been examined and found acceptable and, in fact, had _been_ accepted.

For _six_ of them, at any rate.

For all that actively _using_ magic was denied Princess Twilight Sparkle in that world, she still seemed to possess the ability to _sense_ it. Use it? No. Perceive, divine, and sense it? Very much so. So there was no mistaking it when Sunset Shimmer's power joined theirs.

And that hadn't been _just_ the Power of Friendship involved at that moment, either. There had been something more there, a something that Twilight wasn't at all sure about. The closest she could equate was that it felt very much the same as one of the Elements of Harmony. But there were only _six_ of those!

Weren't there?

For all that Princesses Celestia and Luna, then, later, Princess Twilight, had studied them, there was still an awful lot about the Elements of Harmony that remained shrouded in mystery and mystique.

What was absolutely known as fact, beyond any shadow of a doubt, was that the Elements of Harmony existed long before Equestria had been founded. It hadn't been until their Royal Highnesses had discovered the Tree of Harmony (in what was now known as the Everfree Forest . . . brrrrrrr!) that they had also discovered the Elements.

Utilizing them –which required _removing_ them from the Tree- carried their own risk, most notably the danger of releasing the Everfree Forest from its bounds. Had _that_ happened, that would have destroyed Equestria.

Fortunately _that_ hadn't happened, although the Everfree Forest _had_ overgrown the abandoned Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, the former demesnes of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. One thousand years ago the castle had been demolished, blasted into disrepair, during the battle between Nightmare Moon and Princess Celestia. Princess Celestia had achieved victory during that titanic, cataclysmic battle, but only by a slim margin, and only because, at the end, she'd utilized all six Elements herself.

But at a price.

The Elements of Harmony, once Princess Celestia had banished her fallen younger sister in the moon, had rejected her. No longer was she connected to them. And so, as her final act before abandoning her home, a Castle that held naught for her now but sorrow, Princess Celestia had raised a statue in the Castle as a receptacle for the Elements.

Whereupon the Elements of Harmony promptly displayed a mind of their own. For while the statue had held six stone orbs, only five Elements had actually been physically present, and only those five -Loyalty, Honesty, Generosity, Laughter, And Kindness- had been capable of being released. _Unlike_ when they'd existed in the Tree of Harmony the sixth Element –Magic- had been nowhere to be found.

As far as Twilight's researches had determined, that explanation was rather simple yet (for her, at least) personally embarrassing. As best as she could deduce, the Element of Magic only appeared when the other five Elements were also present. _That_ wasn't so bad. However, the additional conclusion that, apparently (in their current incarnation, at least) Twilight, herself, _personally_ represented the Element of Magic . . .

But the interesting point of all these musings of hers was that, truly, what they knew as _fact_ about the Elements of Harmony was quite small, while what they _conjectured_ was rather extensive. Which made Princess Twilight wonder if there might not be, under the right concatenation of circumstances, yet another, as yet unnamed and unknown, Element lurking about.

And whether or not Sunset Shimmer might be the Holder of -if not outright personification of- that Element.

* * *

><p>There was a brilliant flash of light from the mirror as Princess Twilight stepped through and back into the Castle Library. Moments later there was a second flash as Sunset Shimmer passed through. The difference between their actual arrival, however, was rather profound.<p>

Princess Twilight was basically an old hoof at this by now, having had a least a half-a-dozen passages under her wings. She was used to the physical and spatial disorientation felt when shifting back to the normal horizontal and quadrupedal position from the awkward and unnatural vertical and bipedal.

Sunset Shimmer, however, was _not_ so experienced. She sharply gasped as she exited the mirror, at first trying to maintain her balance on two rear hooves, forelegs wildly flailing for balance. It wasn't until she dropped back down onto forehooves that she stopped wobbling and weaving about as if struck by a disorientation spell. Eyelids tightly squinched shut Sunset Shimmer violently shook her head, brilliant yellow and vivid crimson mane waving like a dazzling, rolling surf.

This was, really, the first time Princess Twilight had gotten a good, long look at Sunset Shimmer as a unicorn (the last time things had been rather busy and hectic, after all) and the first thought that flicked into her head was that Rarity would die to get her hooves on that thick, lush expanse of mane and work her own brand of "magic" on it.

But that mental smile vanished, replaced by a physical look of concern, as Sunset Shimmer just remained standing there, all four legs set apart and braced, her barrel heaving as if she'd just run a race. Her eyes remained tightly shut still, and her skin twitched as if shaking off flies. Her horn began glowing. Softly at first, little firefly flickers that chased each other 'round and 'round the helixed spiral, then gradually spreading along the length until the entire horn refulgently illumined the room with its lambency.

Princess Twilight closed the distance between them in two small steps then lowered her head down next to Sunset Shimmer's. "It's OK Sunset Shimmer," she softly, reassuringly murmured. "I'm right here. Everything's going to be just fine. I promise."

Sunset Shimmer softly groaned, trembling as she stood there. "I . . . I can _feel_ it," she agonizingly whimpered. "It . . . it's coming back!"

"Well, of _course_ it is, silly!" Princess Twilight soothingly chided. "You _are_ a unicorn after all!"

The tone was so unexpected –gentle teasing mixed with mild chiding- that Sunset Shimmer's eyes flew open in startled surprise, head rearing back in astonishment. Princess Twilight just grinned back at her, as if this was of no import, as if everything was just spiffy and perfectly normal.

Taking a deep breath Sunset Shimmer gustily exhaled. Then took a second one, eyes closed (softly, this time) and exhaled again. The skin twitching slowed, then ceased. Raspy gasps gradually eased, while the coruscation of her horn gradually dimmed and died, not so much disappearing as being absorbed. Finally, after what seemed to be a long time (to Sunset Shimmer, anyway) but wasn't more than a minute she took a final deep breath and exhaled that one much more like normal.

Giving a last head shake, mane rippling as she did, Sunset Shimmer finally opened her eyes. Princess Twilight still just stood there, looking perfectly calm and at ease, as if she hadn't a worry in the world. And that wasn't an act; Sunset Shimmer knew that on soooo many levels, not the least of which –_this_ time- was also arcane, for she could sense with the replenishment of her powers that Princess Twilight had activated _absolutely no defensive or protective magics_.

Princess Twilight was wide open to anything Sunset Shimmer might choose to do. And, even as a filly in her first year in magic school Sunset Shimmer had had the raw power and ability to have floored Princess Twilight where she stood.

And Sunset Shimmer _knew_ that Princess Twilight knew that.

A gentle yet intense warmth bloomed and blossomed inside Sunset Shimmer, a sensation that was no longer foreign to her being. Of course Princess Twilight hadn't activated any such thing! Because she _trusted_ Sunset Shimmer. Trusted her as a _friend_.

"Feeling better?" Princess Twilight solicitously inquired.

Sunset Shimmer licked lips that felt a bit dry. Closing her eyes again, this time to assist her concentration, Sunset Shimmer ran a bit of an internal inventory and assessment. For the most part nothing felt _wrong_ . . . exactly. Weird and strange, _definitely_, particularly those inner conduits that were now shimmering and brimming with magic. And yes, now that she'd had a few minutes to, well, adjust, she _was_ feeling better, especially since her fears didn't seem to be coming true.

_Not coming true, _yet_, anyway,_ she mentally qualified. Still, she'd be extremely untruthful if she'd said this wasn't feeling at least a _bit_ disorienting!

"Ummm . . . errr . . .," she faltered. "Yeah. I _think_ so, anyway," she finally replied, then jerked back in alarm, cyan orbs round, wide as saucers, feeling . . . _something_ . . . wash over her. But all that she could see that could have caused that sensation was Princess Twilight levitating the book "battery" from its niche atop the device which, as soon as the book was removed, powered down and closed the portal. Using skills she hadn't used in a lo-oooong time Sunset Shimmer quickly determined that what she'd felt –and what had spooked her- was sensing Princess Twilight's use of unicorn magic.

Although, she wryly thought, in Princess Twilight's case it was probably more accurate to say _Alicorn_ magic.

As there wasn't any place inside this special room to shelve the book Twilight simply kept it hovering over her head. "I don't have any idea what you're actually feeling right now," she admitted to Sunset Shimmer. "The few times in the past I've completely lost my magic never lasted very long at all. I remember how that made me feel, though, and I feel pretty certain-sure that comparing what I felt when losing magic to how you're feeling _regaining_ it isn't at all the same." Pausing for a moment Princess Twilight gently gazed at Sunset Shimmer. "So," she softly murmured, "What _are_ you feeling?"

"Hooooo!" Sunset Shimmer gusted. "Where to begin?"

"At the beginning, of course!" Princess Twilight grinned.

Sunset Shimmer lopsidedly grinned back. As long as she had her friend with her she felt a lot more settled, a lot more safe and secure, about all this. "Well," she began, "Physically I'm feeling a bit disoriented. Mentally, more than a bit flustered." She took a cautious step forwards, then a second. "My perspective makes things look odd and makes me a bit dizzy but it's getting better. Starting to feel more, well, natural."

Sunset Shimmer slowly paced around the circumference of the portal room as Princess Twilight patiently gave her all the time she needed to re-acclimate to the world of her birth.

* * *

><p>Twilight Sparkle grunted with effort as she hoisted the transmitter out of the van. She'd used a hand truck getting it <em>to<em> the van, but she hadn't ever planned on needing to move it except between the van and her dorm, which is where the aforementioned –and highly useful- trolley currently resided. It took her several minutes to lug the unwieldy, awkward mechanism across the street and up to the statue, and she was puffing like a bellows by the time she thumped it down.

Everything else she needed –or could think of needing, anyway- was set by the statue, and for the next couple of minutes Twilight was busy attaching various and sundry electrodes and terminals to the statue base. Fingers –the tips ink-stained, the nails nibbled and ragged- flew like dancing lightning as she rapidly connected wires to their attachment points. It seemed like she was wading through molasses but, in actually, Twilight had things set up and running in record speed, and in a very short period of time her devices were busy humming, buzzing or ticking away.

Pushing her glasses back up Twilight quizzically stared at the statue. There was no doubt about it: this statue was the primary locus for the energies she'd been detecting, and tracking, these long months. Yet there wasn't anything extraordinary about it. Especially at this moment, for it wasn't emitting anything; for all its activity it could very well be the hunk of chiseled marble it resembled.

Or _probably_ was; Twilight decided to chip a piece off and analyze it back at her lab, just to determine what, exactly, its actual composition was.

Still, just because it was quiescent _now_ didn't mean it hadn't been active in the past. Especially the _recent_ past.

Twilight kept a very careful eye on the quantum gyroscope. That seemed to be the most sensitive of her detection equipment, and Twilight already had the beginnings of several monographs started, documenting the correlation between quantum effects -like quantum teleportation and tunneling- and the effects that the uneducated called "magic". In fact, the waveforms and frequencies she'd been recording . . .

Flicking the power toggle on, Twilight waited as the transmitter hummed as it powered up. Adjusting dials and rheostats Twilight closely watched the oscilloscope as she did, stopping once it matched the tracings recorded by the integrated electronic piezoelectric accelerometer. Her eyes widened when, at the moment the oscilloscope output matched the accelerometer tracings, the rear base of the statue flickered.

It wasn't an exact match, she noted, and began the delicate task of matching signals to each other. Within a few seconds, though, she realized that the signals seemed to take on a life of their own, adjusting themselves to each other. And not just _adjusting_, either! They were fueling each other, in a self-propagating, self-amplifying, feedback loop; in some ways resembling, and functioning, very much like the typical harmonic oscillator.

It wasn't until the quantum gyroscope abruptly spun up so fast, so furious, that it disintegrated, that Twilight abruptly realized there was a great deal more energy involved here than she had ever envisioned. This was -_somehow!_- a _quantum_ harmonic oscillator she'd energized!

She knew, without any false modesty, that this was far more powerful and esoteric than she had the ability, or knowledge, or _experience_, to handle, let alone contain and control! The power levels were enormously strong and exponentially growing, and if she didn't disconnect the equipment _right now!_ . . .

Twilight had just reached for the main power bus when the base of the statue erupted in a silent globe of blinding kaleidoscopic energy, enveloping not just Twilight's _equipment_ . . .

. . . but also Twilight _herself_.

* * *

><p>Soft clip-clops lightly echoed in the portal chamber as Sunset Shimmer deliberately paced around the room. She was getting her hooves back under her much faster than she'd believed she would or could do . . . and had feared she wouldn't be able to do at all. As long as she didn't really focus on what she was doing it didn't feel strange. Sunset Shimmer suspected that Princess Twilight was going to be right . . . again, she crookedly grinned.<p>

As she slowly paced she permitted herself to, more and more, feel the energies roiling within her. For quite some time she kept flinching from appraising too deeply that inner, blinding radiance, fearing being overtaken by that power, subsumed and consumed by those former, fierce, selfish desires and temptations. But –_again!_- Princess Twilight seemed to be correct: just because she had the ability, talent, skills (and now power) to do something didn't mean she _would_.

However, Sunset Shimmer was a wiser mare than she'd once been. Temptations, she knew, never really went away for good. Like any sneaky foe, a beaten temptation might withdraw from the field of battle, but a battle wasn't a war, and forcing a retreat wasn't a total victory. So Sunset Shimmer wasn't about to let her guard down, not for a very long time, if ever. All the same, she wasn't going to walk around huddled in fear, afraid of her own shadow because of "what-mights" . Like Fluttershy.

At that Sunset Shimmer felt a wave of shamed heat flood her face. That really wasn't fair to Fluttershy, and she knew it. Not only was Fluttershy a friend of hers, but Sunset Shimmer knew there was a core of steel inside Fluttershy's normally timid diffidence. And Celestia help anypony if they threatened harm to an animal if she was there! Why, they'd be lucky if-

"Here. Catch!"

Sunset Shimmer blinked, startled, as Princess Twilight's called out. Then staggered back, eyes wide in alarm, as Princess Twilight simply heaved the book over towards her, the aura of her levitation disappearing once the book reached the highest point of its arced trajectory and had begun rapidly descending at Sunset Shimmer.

"Ack!" The book came to a halt, hovering in mid-air, surrounded by a faint, shimmering pale turquoise aura.

The same auroral glow that flickered and danced over her horn.

"What are you _doing!?_" Sunset Shimmer almost gibbered.

"At the moment? At the moment _I'm_ not doing anything. _You_ are," Princess Twilight patiently stated, as sober and serious as any of Sunset Shimmer's stodgy teachers had ever been, especially when stating the obvious. Alas, the twinkling of gleaming violet eyes gave the game away.

Once Sunset Shimmer had gotten over the sheer shock of having the heavy book flung her way without warning she suffered a second, more intense one, as she felt the magic –_her magic_- actively flowing through her as she levitated the book. After the last few years this felt decidedly . . . odd. Strange. Peculiar.

But also nice.

_Very_ nice, in fact.

Pleasant. Pleasurable. Satisfying. Delightful. Oh, so _many_ feelings, and all of them good! So, _so_ good!

"Back atcha!" Sunset Shimmer grinned, "tossing" the book back at Princess Twilight.

For the next couple of minutes the two of them acted like silly little foals, hugely grinning as they took turns pitching the book back and forth, sometimes lobbing it in a high arc and sometimes firing it like a missile. Princess Twilight had picked the best way to get Sunset Shimmer to relax about her magic, it seemed, because once she'd gotten over the initial shock she abandoned herself to the game with playful passion.

In fact, Sunset Shimmer was frisking about, giddy with the euphoria of relief from her most immediate fears. Pealing giggles rang out as she suddenly pictured herself having done this back when she had still been a student at Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns! The other students would have been bowled over, knocked for a loop!

Sunset Shimmer abruptly paused, holding still, keeping the book hovering just over her head. "Is something wrong?" Princess Twilight asked, her voice full of concern. Sunset Shimmer quickly shook her head. No. Nothing was _wrong_. But she'd suddenly pictured how Princess Celestia might have looked, seeing her student gamboling about in exuberant fun with friends.

Well, better a slow learner, she wryly thought, than a complete dunce and dolt-colt! "She's pretty amazing, isn't she," Sunset Shimmer murmured.

Taking the abrupt change in direction totally in stride Princess Twilight replied, "Princess Celestia you mean?

Sunset Shimmer wasn't at all surprised that Princess Twilight had straightaway deduced whom Sunset Shimmer had meant. Nodding, she'd just opened her mouth to continue when she stopped, consciously becoming aware of a sensation that, she realized, she'd been growing more and more peripherally aware of. "Ummm," she semi-stammered, "Is that _supposed_ do be doing that?"

Princess Twilight turned and fully faced the Crystal Mirror, that having been the first "that" Sunset Shimmer had meant. Jaw dropping, Princess Twilight looked quite stunned, for the Crystal Mirror's surface was flickering, flashing and flaring in an unsteady pattern, but one whose power was noticeably growing stronger, that growing power being the second "that" Sunset Shimmer had been asking about.

"No. No, it's not," Princess Twilight answered, narrowing her eyes as she focused fully on the misbehaving Mirror. Granted, she'd only been using the mirror for less than three moons so it wasn't as if she considered herself an expert on it, but what she was seeing now was totally unique in her experience.

Worse, much _much_ worse, was that it should also be totally _impossible_.

For one of the very few times in her life Princess Twilight _re_acted instead of acted. Her immediate assessment was that the power levels of the Mirror were unsteadily fluctuating and needed a regulating moderator. The best way of doing that, she intuited, was to use an external stabilizer, especially if that could also provide its own steady, reliable source of power.

And she just happened to have a hoofy-doofy one right here!

Before Sunset Shimmer could say anything (not that she had a clue, afterwards, what she _might_ have said) Princess Twilight had levitated the book up and ensconced it into its niche.

And that's when everything went to Tartarus in a basket.

For a moment it looked as if Princess Twilight's idea had worked: the irregular flashes and flares died down into a steady, albeit bright, glow. But that lasted _only_ for a moment. Sunset Shimmer cried out, feeling energy suddenly, painfully, wash over her, forcing her eyes closed lest she be blinded by the radiance. It felt very much like what had happened to her back in her other world, the first (and only!) time she'd learned what having bare skin instead of a pony coat meant if you stayed out in the sun too long. She'd gotten a ferocious sunburn, and her skin had been so sensitive that, until she'd healed, feeling sunlight against the burned skin had hurt!

This felt much the same, but a hundred –nay, a thousand!- times worse!

She felt, more than heard, a silent explosion, then all was quiet. Raw, untamed and uncontrolled magic no longer shrilled along her nerves. Sunset Shimmer cautiously slitted one eye and, seeing that the room was dark now save for the four bracketed, flameless torches in their wall sconces, blew out a gusty sigh and opened them both. "That was - _Twilight!_"

Sunset Shimmer leapt over to where Princess Twilight was lying, bonelessly sprawled in an untidy heap on the floor. "_Princess Twilight!_" Sunset Shimmer cried out. "Are you OK? What's wrong?" Sunset Shimmer was literally dancing in place, her hooves echoing little clip-clops in the small chamber. She was about to race off and find help when she heard a low, soft groan. "It's OK, I'm right here," she reassured, feeling uncharacteristically helpless. "Everything's going to be fine, I promise."

Looking about Sunset Shimmer _hoped_ she was telling the truth. Although she'd felt . . . _whatever_ that had been! . . . with her arcane senses she hadn't felt anything physical at all. No sound. No pressure. Nothing. But it appeared that Princess Twilight's device hadn't fared anywhere near so well. Bits and pieces were loosely dangling, and as best as she could tell (considering she'd never seen it in proper operation before) it wasn't functioning.

Which made the fact that the Crystal Mirror was beginning to fitfully spit sparks extremely alarming.

Princess Twilight softly groaned again before weakly moving, slowly lifting her head up and gingerly shaking it, slowly, really unsteadily, getting her hooves back under her. Then she opened her eyes . . .

A hysterical shriek sounding like a scalded dragon burst from Princess Twilight as she stared, horrified, at her forehooves. With an eruption of fearful energy she surged upright . . .

. . . onto her rear hooves.

Sunset Shimmer stared, eyes rounded saucers, as Princess Twilight heaved herself up onto her hind legs then stood there, forelegs windmilling about, her eyes wide with horror. She kept staring at her forehooves as if they were fiends, beasts about to rend and savage her. Wobbling on hind legs Princess Twilight kept sharply flicking her forelegs as if trying to shake her hooves off, all the while howling in distress.

"_Watch out!_"

It was too late. Sunset Shimmer had been so transfixed by Princess Twilight's . . . histrionics? Possession seemed more accurate! . . . that she hadn't noticed that infernal device begin partially collapsing. At the very last moment she'd seen the book dropping like a rock from the heavens, having fallen from its shattered niche, and her warning came at the same instant it smacked Princess Twilight right in the back of the head. Princess Twilight's wails came to an abrupt stop as she, too, then dropped like the self-same metaphoric rock.

"_NO!_"

Sunset Shimmer screamed, completely helpless, unable to do a thing as she watched the book take a bounce behind Princess Twilight as she was collapsing from the impact . . . then, in a smooth arc, take a second bounce . . .

. . . right _through_ the Crystal Mirror.

There was another explosion, just as silent as the first but insanely more powerful. It took several minutes before Sunset Shimmer could see past the stars and spangles the glaring, blinding blast had left behind on her vision. And when she finally could see, her stomach knotted up so badly that she wished she'd still remained dazzled.

The Crystal Mirror was no longer spitefully sparking and flaring. It was completely dark and quiescent.

And based upon the fact that its crystal surface was now cracked and crazed like a shattered eggshell, it was quite broken, as well.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The moment Twilight fell to her knees she knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. She shouldn't _have_ knees!

Well, more accurately, she shouldn't have just _two_ of them! At least, she shouldn't have just two of them when in _Equestria_.

When she fell forwards, landed on her palms and found herself reeling on hands and knees, she _really_ knew she was in trouble. She was so dizzy, so disoriented, that she couldn't focus enough to make sense of anything, and now her stomach was so nauseated she was fighting to keep from getting sick. Harshly panting, violently trembling, Twilight was so weak that she let herself slide down until she was sprawled on the pavement, the heat radiating upwards from the absorbed sunlight revitalizing.

Gradually her insides stopped fiercely whirling and Twilight started taking stock of her situation. Without even opening her eyes she knew —positively _knew_— she was no longer in Equestria, and she was almost just as positive she knew where she was, instead. Let's see . . .

Hands. Feet. Arms. Legs. Clothes.

Yup.

Her breathing calmed and slowed; her tummy stopped roller-coastering; her heart stopped pounding, her pulse no longer throbbed and raced. She didn't remember going through the mirror —crabapples, she didn't remember _activating_ the portal, for that matter!— but clearly she had returned to the world of her human friends.

Sweet Celestia, _please_ let it be that world and not a different one!

The thought that, perhaps, she'd might have somehow wound up someplace other than there was enough to have Twilight open her eyes and take a quick look about. She quickly closed them again once assuring herself of where she'd gotten off to, because, at the moment, her sight was still rolling back and forth in a decidedly seasick manner.

mmmmm_mmmmm_**mmmmmmMMMMMMMMMmmmmm**_mmmmmm_mmmmm

mmmmmmmm_mmmmmmm_**mmmmmmMMMM** puttputtputtputt sqck . . .

"Twilight? Is that you? Are you all right?"

Something had just passed by, making a peculiar sound as it did, but Twilight had been too woozy to crack open an eye and see what weird oddity it might have been. Even when it seemed to have looped around and was returning she'd much rather keep her eyes closed for now. But then it had squeaked to a stop quite close to her, which made it much more difficult to ignore. And when someone had then called her name . . .

Lifting up her head Twilight looked towards the sound of the voice. Her vision blurred a moment before finally settling into semi-focused clarity.

"Mystery Mint? Is that you?"

Pushing her scooter up onto its stand Mystery Mint nodded as she walked over. "Uh-huh. It's me." Kneeling next to Twilight she tossed her scarf over her shoulder. "You don't look so good. Are you all right?" she repeated. "Did you hurt yourself? Did someone hurt _you_?" she asked, sounding more concerned.

She helped ease Twilight up until she was sitting mostly upright with her legs curled. "I . . . I _think_ I am," Twilight hesitantly answered. "I'm more dizzy that anything else. I'm not _hurt_, anyway."

"That's good!" Mystery Mint exhaled in relief. "What's all this stuff for?" she asked.

"This stuff" turned out to be quite a few devices, none of which were immediately recognizable to Twilight. They were placed in a roughly semicircular arc on the pavement at the rear of the statue, and she had no clue why they were there.

Suddenly Mystery Mint gasped in alarm. Twilight looked up, startled and concerned. "What?"

Mystery Mint just pointed to the rear of the statue pedestal. Twilight's eyes rounded in alarm before she'd even looked up, feeling dizzy all over again. The rear face of the statue pedestal, the portal entrance . . .

. . . looked as if an angry giant had smashed an enormous sledgehammer right in the center.

* * *

><p>"Yep. By the statue . . . I dunno how many. As many as we can get for now . . . She might need all our help. Gotta definitely get Velvet and Wiz though; pretty sure we're gonna need <em>their<em> help . . . It's pretty weird and awful bad . . . OK, see you soon!" Mystery Mint ended the call and slipped her cell phone back into her pocket.

"Just called Cherry Crash," she told Twilight, who Mystery Mint had helped lean upright against an unbroken side of the statue. "She'll round up others to help."

Twilight was feeling much better by now. If circumstances had been different she'd have said she was feeling completely better. But circumstances _weren't_ different.

_The portal was broken._

Even just leaning against it Twilight could sense it was broken. She hadn't _needed_ to see the shattered face of it to know that she was stranded here.

Stranded here. All alone, and with no way at all to return!

Mystery Mint crouched next to Twilight and held out a water bottle she'd taken from her scooter. "Here, have some; it'll be good for you."

"Thanks," Twilight softly replied, taking to proffered bottle and sipping. The water was still chill, and had an interesting mineral-ey taste. Normally that would have quite intrigued Twilight, but not at this point in time. Then what else Mystery Mint had said finally percolated through to her. "Round up others? What others?"

Mystery Mint put small, fisted hands on her hips. "Twilight. Really." she semi-scolded as small fingers flicked a lock of her hair. "I'm lavender and rose; I'm not _blonde._" Twilight blushed but Mystery Mint just grinned, obviously teasing. "_Everyone_ at Canterlot High knows how much we owe you. We might not know everything about _you_," she added, "but we know enough to understand what you've done for us."

Hunkering down, Mystery Mint gazed at Twilight. "We might not make a big deal about that, but that doesn't mean we haven't noticed. Or that we don't care. Mostly it's because we don't want to embarrass you and the others," whereupon Mystery Mint grinned as Twilight blushed, "but also because we respect your privacy. Not that most of us aren't dying of curiosity!" she grinned again.

Twilight took another swallow. "Ummm . . . so what _do_ you know?" she asked, at which point Mystery Mint made Pinkie Pie's original guesstimate of whom Twilight had been back during the Fall Formal seem rather . . . mild and tame. Twilight's eyes were wide in astonishment by the time Mystery Mint was finished.

"So that's why I know that _that_," Mystery Mint gestured towards the shattered portal face, "is _terrible_! It's your way home." Then she looked all around at the scattered instruments. "I just have no idea what these things are. They aren't _yours_, right?

Twilight shook her head. "No, they aren't. They look like measuring instruments though."

Mystery Mint looked at Twilight in surprise. Twilight just snorted, semi-amused. "It might not seem that way to you, but we really don't use magic for _everything_. And back in Equestria you'd probably consider me as much a scientist and a researcher as well as, well . . ."

"A Magical Alicorn Pony Princess of Friendship and Magic?" Mystery Mint helpfully offered, then giggled as Twilight blushed an even deeper rose.

Rising up Mystery Mint padded over to her scooter, fetching a granola bar from a saddle pocket. She was opening up the package when she stopped, looking puzzled, then crouched down and picked up something. "I . . . I think this is something you need to see," she informed. Hunkering down in front of Twilight she held out a book. "This looks more like your type of thing than the rest of this stuff does."

Reaching out Twilight took the book, then stiffened. She paled so badly she turned a ghostly, ghastly gray.

"Twilight! What's wrong?" Mystery Mint cried, freezing in the middle of handing Twilight the granola bar.

Embossed on the cover of the Book was a radiant, golden, stylized sun, a very familiar image to Twilight.

After all, it was the cutie mark of her former teacher and mentor . . . the Royal Sun Princess of Equestria, Princess Celestia.

* * *

><p>"She's been like that since I gave her the book," Mystery Mint whispered to Applejack, the only close friend of Twilight's they'd so far been able to reach. "Just sitting there, holding it to her chest and softly crying. We've all tried talking to her," she tearfully said, "But she just sits there. None of us know what to do!"<p>

"Thankee Mystery Mint," Applejack said, giving her a quick hug. "Ah'm not shore whut's up, but Ah'l go have a talk with Twalaight and see whut Ah kin find out."

Applejack had been surprised to get a call from, of all people, Trixie Lulamoon. She, in turn, had relayed the message she'd gotten from Octavia Melody who, in her turn, had gotten one from Cherry Crash. And a very frightening one it had been, too.

_The Great and Powerful Trrrrixie wishes to inform you that . . . oh shoot,_ Trixie's voice dramatically changed. _Octavia just called me. Twilight Sparkle's in trouble. Meet us at the school statue out front._

Twilight did look awful, her eyes swollen and red, face splotchy. Applejack squatted in front of her friend, tipping her hat back a bit as she hunkered down. "Ah'm here Twalaight. It's me: Applejack. Me and a heap more o' yer friends. We want t' help. Whut's wrong sugar?"

For the longest time Twilight just sat there, clutching her Book. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Twilight slowly looked up, meeting her eyes, and it took everything Applejack had not to not flinch back from the awful, flat look in Twilight's normally bright, dancing eyes. Just as slowly Twilight lowered the book down, like a drawbridge being lowered, exposing the book cover to Applejack.

Now Applejack had seen Sunset Shimmer's book before. Plus —being such close friends and all now— Applejack also knew there was a matching book of sorts back where Twilight lived. A book that was matched and paired to Sunset Shimmer's . . . _magically_ matched and paired. Heck, Applejack had even seen Twilight's messages back to Sunset Shimmer magically appear on the pages of Sunset Shimmer's book!

But this certainly wasn't _Sunset Shimmer_'s book. Which meant . . . did it mean what Applejack _thought_ it meant?

"Thet's t'_other_ book, ain't it?"

Twilight just nodded.

"An' thet one's s'pposed'ta be back there, raight?"

Twilight nodded again.

"This's a bad thing, raight." And it wasn't a question this time.

Tears trickled down Twilight's cheeks as she nodded again, and Applejack felt her heart plummet to the ground.

* * *

><p>"OK, here's what we have so far."<p>

Sitting cross-legged in front of Twilight and a bit to either side, were two of the younger kids there. Actually, they were the two youngest. They were also, for the moment, the complete center of attention of _everyone_.

Neither Velvet Sky nor Wiz Kid were used to being paid _this_ close of attention by their classmates. Especially when they were about to start going all techie!

Velvet: "First off, it doesn't look like anything actually broke the statue."

Wiz: "Right," he nodded. "It looks as if, well, it broke _itself_."

Velvet: "I know, that sounds absurd." (Someone whispered, "That means silly.")

Wiz: "But it appears as if it absorbed more energy than it was meant to handle, and shattered under the stress."

Velvet: "We're not sure it can be repaired. We don't know enough about the mechanics or science behind it." (Someone else muttered, "Or magic.")

Wiz: "Well, yes. That, too."

Velvet: "As for all the equipment around the statue, we know what it's for, and what it does."

Wiz: "Well, what most of it does, anyway." And it was obvious he disliked having to admit that.

The students seemed to lean closer, not wanting to miss anything.

Velvet: "All of it is meant to detect, and measure, energy. And it seems a very special type of energy."

Wiz: "Well, all but one piece," Wiz scrupulously clarified, and Velvet nodded.

Velvet: "That one over there," she pointed to the statue, "had wires connected to electrodes that _were attached to the statue_. It looks as if those were originally connected to a measuring device. But that . . .," Velvet pointed to another device.

Wiz: "That," Wiz continued. "Isn't a measuring device. It's a _transmitter_."

Continuing to speak back-and-forth, and finishing each others sentences, Wiz and Velvet explained that someone must have detected strange happenings going on (there were lots of nods, 'Hmmmms' and murmurs at that) and traced it back here. To Canterlot High. That wasn't _terribly_ surprising, after all. You couldn't have exactly hidden the effects —or _after_effects, for that matter— that had occurred during the Fall Formal, or that spring's Musical Showcase-slash-"Battle of the Bands".

But strange things randomly happened _everywhere_. Granted, Canterlot High had come in for more than its fair share in such a short time, but there had been reasons for that.

But it wasn't just that the ones at CHS had been strange events. They had been strange, _otherworldly_ events.

They had involved magic, and powers, from _Equestria_. Twilight Sparkle's home.

More properly, and respectfully —and as they were all very aware— _Princess_ Twilight Sparkle.

Velvet and Wiz hypothesized (Guessed, someone whispered) that someone had detected the esoteric (I have _no_ idea, another murmured) energies specific to Princess Twilight Sparkle, and of Equestria, and decided to isolate (Wait! I know this one!) its location.

While those two continued talking out loud their speculations and deductions, Mystery Mint walked back over and crouched down alongside Applejack. "Twilight?" she murmured, "Take a bite. It'll make you feel better," she softly said as she held out the granola bar. Her heart almost broke seeing the terrible, lost expression on Twilight's face. Neither did she miss the way Twilight was holding her hands, fingers together, wrists bent, as if the hooves she'd been borne with. Which was another reason Mystery Mint wanted Twilight to have the granola bar. In addition to providing a boost of energy it was mostly mixed grains, like oats, and perhaps that would be a familiar, homey taste to her.

Twilight gripped the unwrapped bar between her "hooved" hands then lowered her head and took a nibble. She slowly chewed, then swallowed, then took a slightly bigger bite.

"Tha's raight Twalaight. Get a little grub inside. Y'all feel better fore it." Applejack gave Mystery Mint a grateful smile as Twilight took yet another small bite.

Twilight had just about finished the bar when Lyra Heartstrings walked over. "Wiz Kid and Velvet Sky are just about finished. It's not that we don't care Applejack," she apologized, "But it doesn't sound as if there's much that most of us can do to help right this minute. We can barely understand what those two are saying. So most of us are going to be going. But if there's anything we _can_ do . . ."

"Thankee kindly Lyra. And thank th' others fer me 'n Twalaight, too, okay?"

"Sure thing Applejack. And Twilight?" Lyra gazed down at Twilight. "We're all here for you. Just say the word and we'll do whatever is needed. Promise."

* * *

><p>Most of the kids had gone, unhappy that they could be of no practical help at the moment, but reassured they <em>would<em> be called once something was figured out. Wiz Kid and Velvet Sky were comparing notes, their heads almost touching together where they sat cross-legged, when came the sudden cry:

"TWILIGHT! Where is she?"

Heads popped up as Pinkie Pie came screeching in on a bicycle, handlebar tassels flying, bells ringing, spokes clicking like castanets from the plastic cards pinned there, and a horn blatting as she rapidly honked it.

Pinkie Pie braked so hard it went up on its front wheel and almost dumped her on top of Twilight. "Pinkie Pah!" Applejack yelped. "Watch out thar!"

"I would have been here sooner," Pinkie Pie panted, hopping off the bike which, against all odds, just stood upright. "But I had to make an emergency stop first!"

"What in tarnation could be more of an emergency Pinkie Pah?" Applejack asked.

"This!" Pinkie Pie chirped, taking a paperboard container from the bike basket . . . whereupon the bike promptly teetered over. "Cupcakes!" she brightly piped, plopping down next to Twilight, almost knocking Mystery Mint right on her rump as she did.

"Cupcakes?" Applejack hooted. "_Cupcakes!?_" She stared at Pinkie Pie in indignation. "_Cupcakes_ were the 'mergency?"

Pinkie Pie nodded, opening the lid and reaching inside. "Not just any cupcakes, either!" she enthused, then her eyes turned glassy-dreamy, "Ookie-gookie, icky-sticky, molten lava chocolate cupcakes!" she said, her voice just as dreamy and practically oozing "yummy".

"Pinkeh Pah," Applejack said, her voice even thicker with exasperation, "Did y'all miss th' fact thet Twalaight's in real serious trouble?"

"Of course not silly-billy!" Pinkie Pie replied, returning from wherever her mind had just wandered off, "That's why getting the cupcakes was an emergency!"

Before Applejack could form any sort of retort Pinkie Pie had removed a cupcake and lightly smooshed it against Twilight's mouth.

"_Pinkie Pah!_"

Twilight lifted her "hooved" hands up and grasped the cupcake even as she took a bite. Within a moment or two her face relaxed, her eyes looked less haunted. Twilight slowly chewed, tense shoulders relaxing.

"Whhu?" Pinkie Pie asked, eyes ingenuously wide, having stuffed a second cupcake fully into her mouth.

By the time Pinkie Pie managed to work her cupcake down Twilight had more daintily finished hers, licking fingers and lips as she chased the last of the gooey icing. Both Applejack and Mystery Mint were flabbergasted at the change in Twilight, both their jaws dropped in shock.

They just stared at each other as Pinkie Pie fished out another cupcake for herself. That one went the same as the first and, as she handed —this time— a second one to Twilight, Pinkie Pie looked at Applejack and Mystery Mint and shrugged at their expressions. "Whhu? Ccpkhs rr gghhd!"

All Applejack and Mystery Mint could do was look at each other and shrug . . . and grin, of course. It _was_ Pinkie Pie, after all!

* * *

><p>By the time Twilight had finished her second cupcake —and Pinkie Pie had devoured her fourth— she felt much better, enough so that she'd noticed Mystery Mint looking a bit dejected and could even take a guess why. Reaching out Twilight gently squeezed her hand. "Thanks for the granola bar. It really helped." Twilight gratefully said, and was pleased to see her spark right back up. "And for the water, too," she added, taking another swallow before handing the bottle back.<p>

Gazing around she noticed that the number of her classmates had significantly dwindled, but the few that remained seemed even more dedicated. Twilight felt a little hurt, though, seeing that so many of her closest friends were absent. Pinkie Pie was still busy chasing icing off her nose but Applejack noticed the hurt expression on her friend's face as she surreptitiously looked around.

Applejack shrewdly guessed the source of Twilight's melancholy. "Rarity's away on vacation," she informed, "along with Sweetie Belle. Rainbow Dash is away et sports camp. So's Scootaloo. They went t'gether." Applejack grinned. "Lil scamp was so excited t' go with her "big sis" too! An' Fluttershah'll be bah later; she volunteers et the Animal Shelter, otherwise she'd be here, you betcha."

Seeing Twilight's expression ease and relax told Applejack she'd hit the mark dead on. Quite deadpan she added, "An' Flash Sentry, he's et band camp," and hid a grin as her friend brightly blushed.

"I have to go for now." Mystery Mint morosely stood there. "I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to help."

Twilight was astonished. "Couldn't do anything?" she said, amazed. Pushing off the ground with a hand she gingerly stood up, then pulled Mystery Mint into a tight hug. "You stopped to help. You called, and rounded up, everyone to help. You stayed with me. What do you mean "couldn't do anything"?"

Ducking her head Mystery Mint blushed. "You know what I mean. I couldn't make it better. Fix things."

Twilight snorted. "Mystery Mint," she softly chided, "you don't have to actually fix something to have helped someone. Sometimes just knowing they're there is all they need. And I'd be in a really bad fix if you hadn't done what you did. You were a big help. Honest."

"Hey Twilight." Cherry Crash walked up and stopped next to Mystery Mint. "I have _no_ idea what those two are talking about," she indicated Wiz Kid and Velvet Sky with a hooked thumb, "but they seem to think you'll understand." She wrinkled her nose in mock disgust, and seemed pleased when Twilight gave a little smile back. "Yo, Mystery Mint."

"Eh?"

"Can I grab a ride with you? I took a cab over but I'm busted for coin now."

"Sure thing. Even have a spare helmet. We're not gonna be driving fast though, not doubled up on _that_!"

Cherry Crash hugged Twilight and then so did Mystery Mint. Both of them gave Applejack a "look" before heading over to Mystery Mint's scooter. Twilight guessed she wasn't supposed to see them exchange that glance, and they must have thought she wouldn't see them do so. It didn't upset her, though, not when she understood their message as loud and clear as if they'd spoken. Theirs had been 'She's going to be OK, right?' while Applejack's had been 'We've got her back'.

Just several years ago that exchange would have flown right by her as something incomprehensible, but she'd learned a lot about things since then, and she relaxed even further surrounded by friends that cared for her.

About then the "Dangerous Duo" gestured at Twilight, motioning her to come over to where they were huddled. Twilight and Applejack waved in farewell to the girls as they headed off to Mystery Mint's scooter, while Pinkie Pie jumped up and down, flapping her hand in a motion more akin to a one-winged albatross trying to lift off. "Oo! _Oo_! Wait! _Wait_!"

While the two of them headed over to Wiz and Velvet, Pinkie Pie dashed over to Mystery Mint and Cherry Crash, bakery box in her hand. "You can't leave without _cupcakes_!"

Velvet pouted as they came to a stop next to them. "I like cupcakes," she grumbled.

"I prefer danish myself," Wiz grinned, earning a poke from Velvet, then he turned serious as he met Twilight's eyes. "We can't tell you exactly what happened," he honestly confessed, Velvet also turning solemn and nodding. "But we have a pretty good idea what this stuff is and what is does."

"We even have a good idea what it's supposed to do." Velvet stated.

Applejack softly whistled, quite impressed.

"But there is one thing that we _have_ to guess at. It's a pretty _good_ guess, though, we think." Wiz confessed

"What's that?" Twilight asked.

"Well," Velvet began, gesturing to all the various and sundry pieces of equipment, "here's all this stuff. And a lot of it looks very expensive. So—,"

"Where is the owner of all these instruments?" Wiz finished.

Twilight felt her mouth open; Applejack's actually dropped. For the very first time it really dawned on them that whoever had set all this apparatus in place, whoever had been using it, was nowhere to be found.

Four heads swiveled as one, staring at the fractured portal surface. "Yeah." both tech wizards extraordinaire said in unison, "That's what we thought, too."

* * *

><p>Considerate of their audience, they condensed into a brief synopsis what they'd learned, so it didn't take long for them to finish. "We don't know where this all came from though," they admitted. "Hopefully it isn't some sort of secret government agency," they worried.<p>

Pinkie Pie giggled. "It isn't funny Pinkie Pie." Wiz Kid scolded. "It could be, you know."

She giggled again. "It's just somebody from Everfree University. Probably some geeky student. Ummm, no offense guys," she hastily apologized.

Velvet just gave Pinkie Pie a look. "Now how do you know that?" she challenged. "We can't even tell you where it came from."

Gesturing across the way Pinkie Pie pointed to a white van parked there. "Because that has EU parking stickers to it!" Pinkie Pie grinned, then held out the bakery box. "Cupcakes?"

* * *

><p>Once Pinkie Pie had pointed out the van it became obvious she was most likely correct. There wasn't any other reason for a motor vehicle to be parked there, after all; school was closed, and there weren't any local businesses or nearby homes. And it made far too much sense that a University student might have been drawn to the peculiar energy discharges that had occurred this last year. So the group, much smaller now, traipsed over to the van to see what might be found.<p>

Alas, the van was locked, and their mystery scientist/secret agent/whomever had neglected to leave their keys behind. "I don't feel right about breaking out a window." Twilight confessed, "Not even to get answers."

"Make way for the Great and Powerful Trrrrixie!"

Eyes rolled as Trixie Lulamoon theatrically (how else?) forged her way to the front. "The Great and Powerful Trrrrixie shall open the door for you!"

"Oo!_Oo_!" Pinkie Pie enthused, clapping her hands as she bounced up and down. "This I have to see!"

Applejack muttered, _sotto voce_, "You an' me both!" as Twilight smothered a grin.

Trixie reached up and unfastened her barrette, a star-shaped ornamental hair clip that was actually extremely pretty. She paused a moment, and might have actually winced a little before bending the spring clip back of the barrette straight out. Leaning over and looking very closely at the key entrance she pressed the metal inside and started working it back and forth, jiggling it up and down. The very tip of her tongue peeked out past her lips as she intensely focused on picking the lock.

Several minutes passed, and sweat was beading on her forehead. There was a growing look of desperation on her face, and Applejack was pretty sure the barely audible, 'C'mon, c'mon! I _gotta_ be able to do this!' she overheard was never meant to be heard at all.

Several more minutes passed and Applejack was about to tap Trixie on the shoulder and tell her to give it up as a lost cause when, suddenly, to her surprise —and everyone else's, too, not the least being Trixie herself— the lock knob lifted up with an audible *pop*.

"I . . .I . . . I did it!" Trixie stuttered, wide-eyed and astonished. An incredible smile of delight and accomplishment spread across her face, for once utterly guileless and unpretentious.

"Let's hear it fer th' Great an' Powerful _Trixie_!" Applejack hollered. Everyone cheered, with Pinkie Pie doing a cheerleader routine with a pair of cupcakes for pompoms.

"Thanks Trixie," Twilight said as she tightly hugged her. "That was amazing!"

"It was, wasn't it?" she said, her voice soft and wondrous, her expression elatedly stunned. Then her face fell as her beautiful barrette broke apart and fell to the ground. "Trixie needs a new hairclip," she mournfully said.

Octavia Melody crouched down and picked up the pieces before standing back up alongside Trixie. Gently squeezing her shoulder she said in that cultured voice no few of her classmates envied -or mooncalfed over, "This is such a lovely ornament. My uncle is a jeweler; if anyone can can fix this he can. Shall we go and ask him? When I tell him that you broke it as the only means of helping a friend he will spare no effort to make it as good as new."

"Really?" Trixie asked, heart on her sleeve. "It is very special to Trixie."

"Yes. Really," Octavia smiled and nodded. After assuring they wouldn't be needed Octavia guided Trixie to the side before the two of them headed off together.

"Wait! You need cupcakes!" Pinkie Pie hollered, chasing off after them.

"I gotta admit Twalaight, I thought fer sure ol' Trixie was jes' up t' her old tricks again. I never thought she'd really do it!" Applejack sounded quite impressed

Wiz stepped around from the far side of the van at that point, and he had the oddest look on his face, like he'd just swallowed a worm and was trying to keep it down. He was also slipping a small device into his pocket as he approached them. Twilight lifted an eyebrow at him and Wiz blushed, looking sheepish, unaccountably shy, yet also quite pleased with himself.

After checking around and assuring no one was paying either of them especial attention at the moment Twilight leaned down and whispered, "Do I want to know?"

His ears turned bright red yet a grin kept fighting to break out. "Promise to keep a secret?"

"Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye."

At the word "cupcake" they both shot glances Pinkie Pie's way, but she was still busy handing out cupcakes to the departing pair.

Wiz partially removed the device from his pocket. "Electric door locks; I hacked the locks and opened them." He gazed Trixie's direction, an odd look on his face. "She needed to win; she hardly ever does, you know."

"And you like her."

Wiz shot her an anxious, alarmed look.

"Cupcakes, remember?" Twilight assured.

She didn't need an answer and, truthfully, wasn't looking for one but Wiz Kid, after giving her a searching look for a few moments, simply nodded as he glanced Trixie's way. "And I like her."

Both of them jumped as Pinkie Pie suddenly appeared between them. "Did somebody mention cupcakes?"

"Guys, you aren't going to believe this," Velvet said a few minutes later.

They'd opened up the van's doors, feeling torn between necessity and feeling like burglars, and were astounded by the mobile lab they'd discovered inside. While the rest of them had been distracted by that bonanza Velvet had —surprisingly, since she was every bit as intrigued by that lab as Wiz and Twilight were— decided to be a bit more pragmatic in her search. She'd focused on the map compartment and the backpack on the forward passenger floor. Inside the backpack, buried amidst papers, documents, books and other scholarly items, had been a small, plain, functional clutch. And inside that . . .

Velvet held out the small billfold that had been inside the clutch. She'd already had it opened and folded back to reveal the driver's license inside.

The driver's license issued to one Twilight Sparkle.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Something . . . something wasn't quite right, Twilight sensed. She wasn't exactly sure _what _it was, but she was definitely sure it was something. At first she thought she was having an incredibly bad, extremely vivid dream, and she struggled to wake up from it. But as time passed it gradually became clear that the intense throbbing pain and visceral queasiness were real and not imaginary.

At which point she desperately started wishing she was dreaming!

She sensed being sprawled prone atop something flat, hard, and chill, her limbs awkwardly spread akimbo. Whatever she was lying atop felt as if it was rocking to-and-fro like a wallowing scow, and her stomach was reacting quite predictably to that perceived motion. The back of her head was throbbing, a slow, steady drumbeat keeping time to her pulse, which was contributing to the nausea.

There was something, however, about the _way_ she was sprawled, and _how_ her limbs were spread, that just didn't feel right. She fought to control the fear rising at the back of her throat as she struggled making sense out of things, but she just didn't remember _anything_ at the moment. Shreds of thoughts, feelings and memories kept fluttering past, fragile streamers shredded by a strong wind, always just beyond her grasp.

That fear surged stronger. Twilight disliked not being in control of anything, and most especially of herself. Swallowing, she felt the physical effects of that simple action, cataloging it.

_Check One._

Next she focused on listening to her pulse, feeling that slow, steady throb . . . which, unfortunately, was echoed by that lump on the back of her head.

_Check Two._

She listened to the sounds of her respiration, feeling each inhale and exhale.

_Check Three._

Somewhere off in another country someone was urgently calling to her, over and over.

_Princess Twilight! Princess Twilight! Oh please! _

Well, _maybe_ they were calling to her. But what was up with that "Princess" nonsense?

Twilight Sparkle cautiously cracked open an eyelid, wincing at the stabbing pain of light piercing through, then hissed as that wince made her gorge heave. She gritted her teeth, forcing her innards to behave, then —_carefully_!— opened both eyes.

She hadn't a clue where she was because she didn't recognize anything. But, truly, she only had a moment to spare for her surroundings because that wasn't what immediately drew her attention. No. Not that at all.

Currently filling her —albeit limited— point of view was a head, one which had just leaned down and blocked most everything else from sight. Actually, what was mostly blocking her view was the thick, tumbling mass of hair that was billowing down from aforementioned head. _Eye-watering_ hair, at that. Twilight cringed, squeezing her eyes shut because the brilliant canary yellow and dazzling vivid scarlet was visually painful.

That annoying voice was once more urgently calling out, and now Twilight was pretty certain of the source of that speech. Undoubtedly the speaker thought they were being soothing and helpful but, frankly, her head was hurting too much for any sort of sound above a whisper to be comfortable.

And then the _rest_ of what she'd seen in that short glimpse percolated through to her consciousness.

_Good Heavens!_ Twilight thought in panic. _Something must be dreadfully wrong with me. I must be very badly injured! Or I've had some sort of nervous, mental breakdown!_

The next-to-very last thing Twilight Sparkle wanted to do at that moment was reopen her eyes. Doing so would only compare what she'd thought she'd just seen versus an actual reality, and, honestly, the last thing she wanted to do was truly confirm she had cracked up. However . . .

Carefully peeping through half-slit lids Twilight flinched as sight verified memory. No. No, obviously she _had_ cracked up.

The blazing mass of hair billowing down in silken ringlets was just as eye-watering as she'd remembered. The only mistake she'd made was in identification, for it wasn't hair. Well, not precisely.

It was a _mane_.

Said mane artfully descended from the head peering at her. And that, too, wasn't quite accurate. True, if you wanted to quibble about it, it _was_ a head. Just one with a muzzle. A decidedly unmistakable _equine_ muzzle. Twilight might never have gone through the pony-crazy stage most little girls did, but even _she_ couldn't mistake a horse when it was looking her in the face! Except —_stee_-rike three!—

Twilight swallowed, closed her eyes and rested her cheek onto the chill stone, or tile —or _whatever!— _beneath her. A unicorn? There was a _unicorn_ looking at her!?

_I know Professor said I might be working too hard, and that I should take a break now and then_, Twilight mentally wailed, _But he only said "_might_!" This can't be happening, it just can't! _

"Princess Twilight? Please, are you all right? Don't worry, I've called for help. Spike said help will be here real quick. Just . . . hold on. Please?"

Spike? _Spike_? What did _Spike_ —her pet, her dog, the best friend and most perfect companion Twilight Sparkle had ever had— have to do with anything? And Spike _said_? Spike didn't talk, he was just a dog. And why was Spike suddenly "appearing" in this fevered dream of hers?

Twilight cried out in distress, suddenly terrified that, in addition to whatever had happened to herself, something dreadful had also happened to her dearest, most treasured friend. That terror overrode any sense of disorientation, suffering or nausea. She surged to her feet, in one exceptionally awkward motion . . .

. . . and realized, with the sickest feeling she'd ever experienced before in her entire life, that something was terribly, horribly wrong.

Standing directly in front of her was, indeed, a unicorn. _That_ would have been bad enough by itself to assure Twilight she was severely mentally ill or seriously injured. Of course, for some reason her damaged psyche wasn't satisfied with a simple delusion of a plain mythical creature, but for some maleficent rationale it had upped the stakes by a considerable margin, for Twilight wasn't being favored by a magnificent, snowy-white, spiral-horned equine with cloven hooves, bearded chin, and tuft-tipped leonine tail.

Instead, the unicorn in front of her was much smaller, about Twilight's own size in fact. Its coat looked normal . . . normal for a _horse_, anyway; a rather plain, yet pretty, amber. However, normality ended right there.

Twilight hadn't been mistaken about the mane; it truly _was_ crimson and yellow —with a matching tail, no less— both colors so garishly bright and dazzling her aching head made her eyes tear up and water. Its horn, oddly enough, wasn't a pure white but instead matched the buff coloration of its coat. Its eyes were huge, set in the front of the head, and gazed back at Twilight with an uncanny semblance of intelligence.

She staggered a step, then another, arms windmilling for balance. The landscape seemed to tip, roll and quiver, not surprisingly considering how badly her head was throbbing, but there just seemed something . . . _wrong_ . . . about her sense of balance. Something unnatural about her body.

That was when she got a good look at her hands. Or what _should_ be her hands. She didn't _have_ hands any more. She had . . .

Twilight swallowed, quite audibly, as she stared down at her _hooves_. Hooves just the same as that . . . that _thing_ standing across from her. And her arms . . . they were covered in fine hair, dense enough to be properly called a coat. She was still wobbling, teetering as she fought for balance —and sanity— then whimpered at the audible clip and clop as she took two wobbling, backpedaling steps. A distant, part of her mind gibbered there was no need to look down to confirm she was standing on hooves.

What she didn't immediately recognize was whatever it had been that had flared out to either side in her peripheral vision, so Twilight took a moment to dart a sideways glance.

Wings.

Of course.

Twilight's breathing grew ragged and shallow as she felt panic rising inside. No hallucination could be _this_ real, not even if she'd truly lost her mind.

Sunset Shimmer had still been reeling in shock when the Crystal Mirror had erupted the first time in a terrible explosion of raw, untamed energy, for it had felt as if she'd been whipped by lashes of fire. But seeing Princess Twilight lying unconscious on the floor, looking as if she'd been flattened by whatever had just happened had sent a jolt of sheer terror through her that had cut right through that shock..

It hadn't helped seeing the device Princess Twilight had constructed looking as if it had been beaten with clubs. Nor had it been comforting seeing the Crystal Mirror still hissing and spitting, especially since Sunset Shimmer had no idea what had happened or, worse, what might yet still happen.

Even with the omnipresent danger of that infernal device, her immediate and most important concern had been for her friend, and Sunset Shimmer had felt an incredible flood of relief wash over her when Princess Twilight began to stir. That lasted just long enough for the dazed alicorn to open her eyes, and then she just . . . just went berserk.

That was the only word Sunset Shimmer could thing of at the moment to describe what had happened: Princess Twilight had just went crazy, like she'd been possessed! And before Sunset Shimmer could do anything to help . . .

She gazed over at the shattered Mirror, shuddering as she did. When Princess Celestia's Book had sailed through the gateway —_after_ having clobbered Princess Twilight on the head— the Crystal Mirror had _truly_ exploded. The last time Sunset Shimmer could honestly say she'd felt anything _close_ to that level of power had been when Princess Twilight had unleashed the combined power of her Crown, her friends, and herself upon Sunset Shimmer's then-demonic form.

And this had felt even _worse_!

She wasn't sure if she'd actually been struck unconscious or had just been stunned. She hadn't thought she'd been knocked out cold but she couldn't be positive. There had been no doubt, however, about Princess Twilight: she'd been laid out colder than a mackerel, a visibly rising lump at the back of her head.

Sunset Shimmer had woozily made it to the door of the Portal Room then had nudged the door open before staggering outside. The Portal Room was at the end of a short, well-illuminated cul-de-sac terminating in a T intersection. There hadn't been anyone in the corridor right at that moment, but immediately after Sunset Shimmer had stepped through the door a passing pony happened to glance down the corridor her way. Seeing her standing there the pony had looked extremely surprised, pausing a moment before rapidly trotting off before Sunset Shimmer could call out.

Before the worried unicorn could decide whether to go for help or stay behind with her injured friend the matter had been solved by the appearance of a small, baby dragon skidding around the corner then rapidly scurrying her way. Sunset Shimmer had wanted to sob with relief at Spike's appearance. She'd recognized him, of course. She'd even seen him as a dragon before, although at the time things had been a bit hectic, what with her stealing Princess Twilight's crown and all. But even if she'd never before seen him as a dragon she would have known it had to be him by his coloration —which matched the dog he became in the other world— and, well, and the fact that there simply weren't that many baby dragons around!

"Oh Spike!" she'd sobbed as the little dragon had slid to a stop right in front of her. "Princess Twilight needs help! Something went wrong with the Crystal Mirror, and she's also gotten a fearful knock to the back of her head!"

"_Don't leave her!_" Spike had yelled back over his shoulder, stubby tail whip-cracking as he did a one-eighty and dashed back down the hallway at a flat-out run, little legs and arms pumping like pistons.

Spike still hadn't come back with help by the time Princess Twilight had stirred the second time, and Sunset Shimmer's hopes that whatever had possessed her had vanished in the interim were dashed to pieces. She knew help was coming, but she didn't know what shape that help would take or when it was going to arrive, and all she could do until then was try and reassure her friend with soothing murmurs.

There was . . . something . . . about the way Princess Twilight was behaving, something elusive. Sunset Shimmer couldn't put her hoof on it at the moment because things were happening too fast, too chaotic, for her to puzzle it out, but her gut was telling her this was something far more than just a bump on the head would account.

"Easy." she calmed. "Easy now. It's OK. Everything's going to be fine. I promise. Just . . . just take a deep breath. That's it. Now another. Good. Good. Help is on the way. You had a little accident and got a bump on the head and that's why you're feeling dizzy. It's nothing serious, so don't worry. _Easy now!_"

***PAMF* **_*pamf*_

Sunset Shimmer froze in place, a feeling of dreadful horror kicking her in the barrel. She hadn't meant to raise her voice but Princess Twilight had abruptly staggered and looked about to fall. Startled, she'd called out as she'd stepped forward to catch and brace her friend . . .

Who had promptly winked out, reappearing two feet back and away from a now _very_ spooked Sunset Shimmer.

"Shhhh . . . easy now. Easy." she crooned, desperately hoping her fear wasn't audible in her voice. That had been wrong. _Very_ wrong.

Oh, not that Princess Twilight had teleported; she _was_ an alicorn, after all, and alicorns shared all the traits of a unicorn. And one of those traits all unicorns possessed —although to differing and varying degrees of capability— was the ability to teleport. Some never really managed to do it at all except under extreme duress, while others achieved great distances without batting an eye. But that talent had two major restrictions: you needed to see where you were going, and there couldn't be any physical obstructions in the way between you and your objective.

Young unicorns often traded, in hushed whispers, spooky horror stories about foals who didn't listen to their parents about teleporting. Like the disobedient filly that tried winking through a wall, or the brash colt to the other side of a hill; stories that always ended rather gruesomely, sending chills through them.

(Naturally, pegasus foals traded similar stories, just about the hazards of flight)

But Princess Twilight _hadn't_ looked where she was going, and _had_ almost clipped the side of the mirror and damaged device in her traversal. Worse, she'd arrived only a few paces from the wall now behind her, which was cutting far too fine a line for an alicorn as skilled as Princess Celestia's prized, most faithful, student.

And that wasn't just _wrong_ . . . it was dreadfully, horribly dangerous.

Before she could calm her friend, somehow talk her down off the deadly-dangerous ledge she was unknowingly perched on, the door behind her flew open. Sunset Shimmer had an instant to realize Princess Twilight was about, out of whatever fear she was experiencing, to commit the fatal mistake of winking out . . . with nowhere clear to go.

Lowering her head her horn blazed as she leveled it at her friend and cast the most powerful sleep spell she could remember. Princess Twilight's body was briefly outlined by green-blue fire before slumping to the ground. She leapt forwards to catch her friend and ease her down, but from behind her rang out deep, angry voices.

"Treason!"

"It's that traitor! Seize her!"

Before she could turn around and try to explain Sunset Shimmer was hit by two, very similar, lances of magic. Unlike hers, neither of those were at all gentle. Twisting in agony Sunset Shimmer hit the floor in a deep coma-like unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"No way!"

"You've _got_ to be kidding!"

A low, soft whistle. "Whoo-ee!"

"_Road trip!_"

Everyone turned and stared at Pinkie Pie. "Ah, 'road trip'?" Applejack carefully repeated.

"Well of course silly-billy!" Pinkie Pie enthused. "Now that we know where she lives let's go there and see what we can find out!"

They'd been busily passing around to each other the billfold that Velvet Sky had discovered, looking —well, gawking, actually— at the driver's license displayed there. Especially the photo image of Twilight Sparkle, which they kept comparing to the real one standing with them. Or the real one . . . at the moment . . . from the other world.

It was rather mind-boggling to be honest.

Even more so to Twilight herself, when it was her turn to gaze at the small laminated rectangle, feeling peculiar at the rather familiar face looking back at her. After all, it was one she saw every time she looked in the mirror —in this world, anyway.

Truthfully, there were small subtle differences. _That_ Twilight Sparkle wasn't smiling. In fact, that sober, serious face looked as if it seldom, if ever, smiled, and her grooming and demeanor were ascetic and severe. Twilight had the oddest sensation of a person that had distilled their very essence down and had eliminated anything frivolous and extraneous, removing everything that might impede her purpose.

That might seem to be a great deal to deduce from a single, mere photo, but something about that image resonated inside Twilight. _Is that how_ I _would have turned out_, she wondered, _if I hadn't met my friends?_

She handed the billfold to an impatiently dancing-in-place Pinkie Pie, and jumped when, seconds later, she'd enthusiastically yelled out her suggestion.

The remaining four —Twilight, Applejack, Wiz Kid and Velvet Sky— turned their heads and looked at each other. "Ah," Applejack diffidently began, "Pinkie Pah, Ah'm not sure if y'all are aware of it, but thet is a bit of a trek t' go hoofin' over thar . It's all th' way across town and miles outside," she finished, tapping the address on the license.

"So?" Pinkie Pie shrugged. "We have the address, and we have the van. _And_ we have the keys!" she brightly chirped.

"Jes' missin' one thing thar Pinkie Pah," Applejack noted.

"What's that?"

"We don't have a _driver_."

"Sure we do!" Pinkie Pie beamed. Rooting in her pocket she pulled out a rectangular card of her own. "Me!" she bounced.

* * *

><p>"Ah'm sure Ah've done stupider things before in mah life," Applejack softly muttered. "Ah jes' can't 'member enny of them at th' moment."<p>

"It's not _that_ bad, is it?" Twilight asked.

The two of them were carrying the last of the devices back to the van, not wanting to just leave them there, especially since they were likely going to be needed at some future point. They'd already said their goodbyes to the rest of their classmates, since the van wasn't big enough to carry everyone that had remained so far. Besides, even if it _had_ been big enough, there weren't that many daredevils and lunatics present to have volunteered to come along once they'd found out who was driving!

So the group remained as Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Velvet Sky and Wiz Kid. Applejack was actually of two minds about including the latter two kids. She felt funny having them risk themselves with Pinkie Pie driving, but had to admit that they were the two most likely to make any sense out of whatever scientific stuff they might find at this Twilight's home.

The inside of the van was _extremely_ neat and orderly, with even pens and pencils neatly racked and stored. All of the apparatus they'd hauled back had their own stowage, so really the only extra item they had to store was Pinkie Pie's bicycle.

The only extra _item_, anyway.

The van was built for function, not for comfort or passengers. It had two bucket seats in front, and a wheeled office chair in the back. Quite obviously the office chair wasn't meant to be used while in transit, which meant only two of the five would have actual seats. Pinkie Pie —naturally, as the driver— took one, which left one. Wiz Kid and Velvet Sky volunteered to sit in the back. Applejack wasn't too sure about that until she saw them hunkered under the worktable and bracing themselves against that and each other. It wasn't ideal but it would have to do.

"Go ahead Twalaight," Applejack stifled a sigh as she motioned to the passenger seat. "Better you than me belted up and safe."

Twilight actually looked excited. "This is my first time in one of these you know!" she bubbled as she sat down.

"Let's jes' pray it ain't yer _las_' time, too!" Applejack muttered.

Seeing Pinkie Pie buckle herself in Twilight took a look about her own seat. Finding an identical harness arrangement she examined it, quickly deducing how it worked. Pulling it over herself and snapping the buckle in she asked, "What's this for?"

"In case of an accident it's t' help keep from gettin' hurt," Applejack explained from the rear of the van where she was settling herself in for the ride.

Twilight blinked. "Really? It doesn't go _that_ fast does it?"

"Have mercy on us all an' pray thet it doesn't," Applejack implored the heavens.

"All set?" Pinkie Pie asked, keys jingling as she inserted one into the ignition. Various degrees of affirmative enthusiasm answered, with Applejack clasping her hands together and murmuring something just under her breath.

"Huh," Pinkie Pie muttered, turning the key several times with nothing happening. "That's strange. It should be starting."

"Whut's th' matter Pinkie Pah?" Applejack asked.

"It's not starting. It's like the battery is dead or something."

"Better the battery than us."

"What was that Applejack?

"Oh, nothin'. Nothin' a'tall."

Pinkie Pie leaned forward and peered down. "What's this _third_ pedal for?"

Applejack yelped.

* * *

><p>"Well, here we are!" Pinkie Pie caroled as she pulled into a parking space. "Toldja no problemo!"<p>

Applejack cautiously cracked an eye open. "Seriously? We're there?"

Pinkie Pie had already turned off the engine and hopped out. "Unless you told me the wrong address we're sure there. C'mon! Ummm . . . Twilight? You OK?"

Twilight made a strange gargling sound, her hands white-knuckled where they'd been gripped almost _into_ the dashboard. She'd never before in her life moved that fast unless she'd been flying, and once they'd reached the highway she'd been petrified with terror. Perhaps if they'd been the only carriage contrivance on the roads she might have been more relaxed, but they _hadn't_ been the only ones, and Twilight couldn't see any rhyme or reason that explained how those others were performing. There _had_ to be some sort of order, otherwise they'd all wind up in one big pile . . . then again, Applejack had said this seat belt thing was for accidents. So . . . just how often _did_ accidents happen?

Pinkie Pie had kept just chattering away like a sugar-rushed magpie the entire trip, acting as if this was no big deal, something she did all the time, so Twilight told herself to just relax and trust in her friend. She actually had managed to relax quite a bit during the drive. But then they had entered what Pinkie Pie had called a "parking lot".

Twilight decided she'd rather have her pinions plucked one at a time rather than ever again endure a parking lot. People just walked in and out willy-nilly, paying no heed to traffic, and other cars just pulled into and out of their stalls with seemingly grim abandon to common sense or safety.

Hearing Applejack in the back muttering what sounded like prayers under her breath from where she sat in the rear didn't help settle Twilight's anxiety.

Velvet Sky and Wiz Kid slithered out from beneath the bench, idiotic grins on their faces. Applejack didn't know whether to envy them or whack them upside the head as she unkinked herself and stood up.

Unbuckling the belt Twilight opened the door and stepped out, then barked out a laugh as Applejack knelt on the pavement and pantomimed kissing the ground.

"Awww c'_mon_ Applejack!" Pinkie Pie pouted.

Applejack stood back up and grinned, but that smile faded as she saw the hurt look on her friend's face. Swiftly closing Applejack gave Pinkie Pie a tight hug. "I was jes' teasin'," she apologized. "Mostly," she grinned again, winking. Then she stiffened and pointed. "Although y'all might want to put th' parkin' brake on," gesturing to the slowly backwards-rolling van.

"Eeek!"

* * *

><p>After double-checking the block address was correct the five of them headed towards the long brick building in front of them. It was three stories high, of warm, red brick, with green ivy tracing its way up the face. There was a broad lawn in front, with neatly trimmed shrubs just in front of the outside walls. Several tall oaks provided shade during the day. Somehow the building presented both functionality along with welcome.<p>

According to the information they'd gleaned from the license, registration and some bills inside the backpack they needed to find room 112. The front door to the dorm was locked, but Velvet Sky had also found that Twilight's school ID card. Taking it she stepped up to the door then swiped it through the attached reader, and was rewarded hearing a soft 'click'.

It was very quiet inside, especially once the door closed behind them. A hallway extended both left and right, and a staircase going up was off to one side. Wiz Kid glanced at some wall plaques then motioned to the left. "This way," he said before heading off that way.

Room 112 was at the furthest end of the hallway. Unlike several of the other doors, which had notes, letters and other things stuck to or fastened to them, _this_ door was scrupulously clean, almost sterile. "Well, here goes nothing." Since Velvet Sky had found the key —as well as the other all-important items— no one challenged her as she stepped up to open the door.

The lock turned smoothly, without a sound. The door opened silently, without a squeak of complaint from the hinges. They cautiously started creeping inside, the room as quiet as a tomb. Until . . .

Loud, piercing barks echoed deafeningly in the room. Darting out from behind the doorway of the kitchenette raced a small dog, furiously barking at the intruders, jaws snapping, eyes flashing in anger.

"Ack!" "Eeek!" "Whoa Nelly!" "Look out!" "It's a cute doggie!"

Quickly backing out the door and closing it they stared at each other. From inside could still be heard furious barking.

"Now whut?" Applejack whispered, although why she was whispering when that demon dog was raising all sorts of cane was beyond explanation.

"_I_ don't know!" replied Twilight. "I wish Fluttershy was here. She knows all about animals. She could probably explain what's going on to it and get it to calm down."

"Ummm . . . Twilight?" Pinkie Pie started.

"Huh? Yes? What is it Pinkie Pie?"

"This is where you —well, your _other_ you; the you that's you when you aren't here. You know?"

Trying to figure that out made Twilight's eyes water. "Um . . . ah. Sure. I guess," she faltered. "So . . . this is where I, _what_, exactly?"

"Oh! Yeah!" Pinkie Pie wriggled. "Well, if this is the place that the other Twilight lives, and if she's like you, and you have Spike, and Spike becomes a dog when he's here —and that's definitely a dog barking at us, yessireebob, no foolin'!— then that's probably Spike in there, too. Just a doggy Spike and not a Spike-dragony-Spike. Knowhutimean?"

It took a few seconds for Twilight to decipher what Pinkie Pie had said but, once she had, an excited look spread across her face. "That's got to be Spike. Well, the dog-Spike that is, and not my baby dragon Spike." Twilight quickly shook her head before she fell into the same alliteration as Pinkie Pie.

Cupping her hands and placing the resulting 'tube' against the door Twilight called out. "Spike," she announced. "It's just me: Twilight."

The barking abruptly ceased, and a soft whine could now be heard from the other side of the door. Twilight looked over her shoulder at her friends, a triumphant look on her face. "That's right Spike. Easy now. It's just me and some friends. Just shush now, OK? We don't want to bother anypo— anyone."

"No. No, we _don't_ want to be bothering anyone. Do we, _Miss Sparkle_."

Everyone spun around at the snide, frosty voice that came from behind them, not the least of which because it was a very _familiar_ voice at that.

All five felt their jaws drop as they stared at the person who had just walked up on them unnoticed.

"Sunset _Shimmer?_"


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Considering the alternative —everpony enslaved by Lord Tirek; all of Equestria under his despotic, all-powerful rule; Princesses Celestia, Luna and Cadence eternally imprisoned in Tartarus— having your treasured library home destroyed as a result of one's battle to defeat that evil was a minuscule sacrifice, especially since vanquishing, and banishing, that tyrant had also freed everypony and restored all their magics: earth, unicorn, pegasus and alicorn alike.

Truly, that was all Princess Twilight had seen as the goal: the defeating of Lord Tirek and the saving of Equestria. And, just as honestly, she hadn't expected any reward to accrue because of her actions. She never had before, of course, and this certainly hadn't been any different than the numerous other times she had come to the defense of her monarchs, her friends, or her world.

Things had been different _this_ time, however, and on a rather larger, and more grandiose, scale than even she had become —albeit grudgingly, at times— accustomed.

Poor Twilight hadn't become all that used to to her crown as of yet, and now she had her own _Kingdom_.

Princess Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship, monarch of the Friendship Rainbow Kingdom . . .

With her own Castle, no less!

It was, everyone admitted, a very unique yet quite appealing castle. The lower half resembled the destroyed Golden Oaks Library that she had come to love as her home, but was several times larger and definitely crystalline in nature. The upper half, perched amongst the boughs of said "tree", closer resembled the typical castle, with spires, towers, balconies and the like.

It was also much, much larger than Golden Oaks Library had been. It also wasn't "just a library" any longer. That fact had been a major source for several of Princess Twilight's initial problems with settling in.

Princess Twilight hadn't been the only one with acclimation difficulties. For years now Spike had been Twilight's assistant and, in fact, his duties —often self-assigned and self-assumed— went far beyond a mere assistant. In addition to his aiding Twilight —and, now, _Princess Twilight_— with her studies and researches, Spike cooked, cleaned, laundered, mended, set and made appointments, drew baths, groomed Princess Twilight . . . the list went on and on.

The important detail of all that, however, was that _Spike_ did all that.

The Castle of the Friendship Rainbow Kingdom, however (as previously noted) was enormous, _many_ times the size of Golden Oaks Library. And, _unlike_ the library, such a Castle was expected to be (mostly) open and available to the public.

(Granted, Golden Oaks Library had originally always been open to the public, too. But once Twilight had started residing there Ponyville had graciously, and happily, granted the Library to Twilight as her home. And since it was her home they'd treated it as such, granting her that measure of privacy and proprietorship)

Princess Twilight —_and_ Spike— had resisted tooth and hoof at first, but it had rapidly become apparent to both of them (sometimes for different reasons) that things just couldn't go on as they had done so before at Golden Oaks. They needed . . .

Staff.

Servants.

Once _that_ door was opened, it was like a flood. You couldn't just have one or two, because then those one or two needed management, or help, and then _those_ needed it . . .

There were ponies responsible for keeping everything clean: the castle itself, including the outside, and things like linens, laundry, and the like. Ponies responsible for keeping the castle grounds in good shape, like gardeners. Ponies responsible for administration, helping guide visitors and assist petitioners, setting up appointments and similar duties. Ponies responsible for keeping all of those properly fed, and keeping the pantries and larders decently stocked. The list just went on and on.

Poor Spike. He saw everything he took pride in doing helplessly dribble through his claws. And the awful thing was he couldn't really refute anything that was changing. Their Castle might not be as large as either Canterlot Castle or Crystal Castle were, but within days Spike had to miserably admit it being too big to keep up with just by himself.

He wasn't the only one that had to come to grips with an unpalatable necessity. Now, there positively were things about her castle that Princess Twilight found a definite step-up from Golden Oaks: the bedroom and bathroom, for instance.

Or, more accurate, The _Royal Bedroom Suite_. Princess Twilight wasn't as hedonistically inclined as Rarity —who had, when she'd gotten her first look at the furnishing and appurtenances, had cooed, rolled her eyes and fainted in bliss— but even she had to admit feeling shivers of pleasure upon seeing the comfy canopy bed and the sunken Jacuzzi tub.

What wasn't anywhere _near_ as delightful were the Royal Guards that Princess Celestia had fobbed off on her.

Princess Twilight thought it had been grossly unkind of Cadence to have joined ranks with Celestia and Luna when she'd complained to Celestia when the Guards had first arrived. Double unkind when Cadence had then sent her own company of Crystal Pony Royal Guards!

Friendship Rainbow Kingdom, Princess Twilight had complained, wasn't at all the same as Equestria or Crystal Empire. Her castle wasn't the capital of a nation or seat of government! She didn't _need_ all the same trappings that both Canterlot Castle and Crystal Castle did!

Her fellow Princesses sympathized with her but remained unmoved by her plaints. Her castle was, like it or not, more than just her home, more than just a library, now. Royal Guards were more than just a token, more than just a visible symbol of her position and prestige; they helped guide as much as guard, assist as much as defend.

And so her castle now employed staff and servants (which didn't please Spike even if he knew they were a necessity) as well as Royal Guards (which didn't please Princess Twilight, even if she had grudgingly caved in to her fellow Princesses' insistence).

There were, however, two things that Princess Twilight decided that _no pony_ was going to argue with, and both involved Spike.

First off, Spike was her personal aid. _No pony else_ was going to interfere with, or get their grubby hooves involved with, Princess Twilight's personal affairs. Spike kept her appointments, kept her rooms neat and clean, made sure her clothes and linens were laundered. The kitchen staff might _prepare_ her meals, but Spike was the one that _presented_ them, and cleaned up afterwards.

Secondly —and again, on this she would brook no arguments— Spike was her chamberlain. He might not be able to personally perform all the chores her new castle household required but, by Celestia's Sun, he would be in charge of managing those duties!

Spike had been enormously flattered, and extremely proud, at that appointment. It had still been difficult for him to let most things go, and he constantly struggled, often very hard, not getting bossy with everypony, or continually sticking his claws in where they weren't needed.

Right this moment, though, Spike was desperately wishing somepony else was in charge!

He'd known that Twilight would be returning to the human world today, and bringing Sunset Shimmer back with her. If it involved a risky task, or something potentially hazardous, Spike would have, of course, accompanied Twilight there. But this was just a quick trip back and forth, something completely innocuous and dull, so Spike had elected remaining behind and seeing that the welcoming home refreshments were up to snuff.

He hadn't at all been expecting what had actually happened.

_Oh Spike! Princess Twilight needs help! Something went wrong with the Crystal Mirror, and she's also gotten a fearful knock to the back of her head!_

Those terrible words kept echoing in his head, Sunset Shimmer's voice distorted with frantic fearfulness: _Princess Twilight needs help! Princess Twilight needs help! Princess Twilight needs help!_

He'd dashed off and raced through the corridors intending to do just that: help Twilight. Problem was, _he_ didn't know what do to to help. He needed to _get_ help.

And he was_ the one in charge_. _He_ was the one that made decisions. But he didn't know what to do!

Skidding around the third corner he almost barreled right into three Royal Guardsponies, two of them looking extremely spent and exhausted, heavily lathered, and neither familiar to him. They jerked back in alarm, and Spike started heading around them when the remaining Castle Guardspony started to speak. Spike cut him off, holding up a paw as he panted. "It'll have to wait. Princess Twilight needs help."

All three Guardsponies tensed in alarm. Suddenly a thought hit Spike. "You," he stabbed a talon at the Castle Guardspony. "Sergeant Lance Bearer, right?" The Castle Guardspony nodded. "Twilight's in the Portal Room along with Sunset Shimmer." Spike didn't notice the other two Royal Guardsponies' sudden widened eyes or flattened ears. "Go there and check up on her. I'm getting a doctor up here."

"Yes Sir!" Saluting Spike, the Castle Guardspony turned and rapidly trotted off. "You might as well go with him," he told the remaining two before racing off again. Moments later he was screeching to a halt at the main entrance, alarming the two Royal Guardsponies stationed there, just inside the main entrance and flanking the doorway itself.

_Whoa Spike! Hold on a second here bud!_ he thought as he gaspingly stood there. _You gotta stop running around like a headless cockatrice! Think! Think! _Taking a deep breath Spike struggled for composure. One of the Guardsponies started addressing Spike. He cut him off and shook his head at him. "It'll have . . . to wait. Twilight needs help." Both stiffened as Spike continued. "You," he said, pointing a claw at one of them, "Go to . . . Ponyville Hospital. Tell them . . .to send a . . . doctor. Twilight's been injured . . . and needs help," he gasped.

"Yes Sir!" the Guardspony saluted and immediately dashed off.

"Go with him," he told the other.

"Yes Sir!"

As he galloped off to rejoin his partner, Spike leaned over, paws on thighs as he huffed and puffed for breath, trying to think what else needed to be done or whom else he should call for. At the moment he _couldn't_ think of anything else, so he stood there, fretting, gnawing on his claws as he impatiently waited for the Ponyville medical team to show up while what he really wanted to be doing was race back and be there at Twilight's side. But someone had to stand there at the door to guide the medical team when they showed up.

Dancing in place he fretted and fumed, then took off running, yelling out as he dashed past a roving pair of Guardsponies on routine patrol, "Watch the entrance!" He didn't bother checking to see if they listened or not, and his toeclaws scraped and scrabbled as he raced back through the castle to the Portal Room.

"Twilight!" he softly yelled as he entered the room, seeing her gracelessly sprawled unconscious on the floor. "Twilight! Are you all right?" Spike choked back a sob as he hastily knelt next to her. Gently he rested a paw on the side of her chest and heaved a broken sigh at feeling the slow, regular beat of her heart, seeing, as well as feeling, the steady rise and fall of her chest.

Glancing up his eyes widened in horrified shock at seeing the mirror and device . . . or what was _left_ of them anyway. Even he could see that both were far more than just damaged; they were undeniably wrecked.

Behind him and to one side he was dimly aware of the unfamiliar Guardsponies helping Sunset Shimmer to her hooves before leading her out. Twilight, however, was still deeply unconscious, so she must have borne the brunt of whatever had happened here. Whatever that was Spike had no idea but he wondered if Sunset Shimmer knew what had happened. Speaking of which . . .

He blinked, abruptly aware he'd seen her being led off. Quickly gazing around he confirmed she was, indeed, no longer inside. "Where's Sunset Shimmer?" he asked the remaining Guardspony.

"They took her away." he replied.

"_What!?_" he blurted. "_Who_ took her away? And _why_?"

"The other Guardsponies. They said she was under arrest."

Spike lunged up, startling the Guardspony into snapping his head back and forcing him into backing up a pace. "Under _arrest!?_" he scowled. "For what? And who were they?"

Beads of sweat popped out on his head. "They . . . they said for treason. And they were Royal Canterlot Guardsponies Sir."

"_Watch Twilight!_" Spike yelled as he dashed back out again.

_Stupid idiots!_ Spike mentally growled. _Do they _still_ think Sunset Shimmer is a traitor? I'd thought that had all been cleared up by now!_

He caught up with them just as they were approaching the main entrance. "Stop!" he yelled to the two Guardsponies there.

Spike skidded to a halt as he reached the five of them, the group just shy of the enormous double doors there. "I said _stop!_" he screeched as the two Royal Canterlot Guardsponies, after having halted a moment, continued on their way, one of them tugging with his teeth the lead line connected to Sunset Shimmer's halter.

Except it wasn't a _halter_ . . . it was a _muzzle_. And then everything else registered, and Spike felt a wave of white-hot fury whelm him.

"Stop them!" he commanded the two Guardsponies at the door.

"But Sir!" one quailed. "They're Royal _Canterlot_ Guards!"

Spike started to respond but suddenly paused, eyes narrowing a moment as focused on one of the two Castle Guardsponies, one that had been assigned to them by Princess Cadence herself.

A _Crystal Pony_ Guardspony.

Stabbing a foreclaw at the hapless Guardspony Spike growled, "Who am I?"

The Guardspony immediately snapped to attention. "You are 'O Great and Honorable Spike the Brave and Glorious'."

"Glad we have that settled. You will make sure these two," he growled, "don't leave this castle without my permission." He didn't bother to see if he'd be obeyed. He knew he would be, so he was now free to turn his attention to the true source of his fury.

"Release her. _Now_."

Although he could be easily riled up Spike rarely ever became genuinely enraged. It took a great deal of provocation to truly fire up his furnace.

This was one of those times.

The two Royal Canterlot Guardsponies shot glances at each other before one gave Spike a hard stare. "Sunset Shimmer must accompany us to Canterlot, there to be judged of her crimes."

"What crimes!?" Spike howled. "I know for a fact Princess Celestia pardoned her for what happened in the past."

"We saw Sunset Shimmer strike down Princess Twilight with our own eyes, back there in her chambers."

Spike's head kept whipping back to Sunset Shimmer, his fury increasing each time he did so. They hadn't just cast a magic muzzle to keep her silent, they'd also magically cast hobbles on forelegs and hind legs, forcing her to take half-steps and preventing her from bolting. But as bad as all that was, what really had Spike poised on the bring of mayhem was left to the gleaming toroid seated over Sunset Shimmer's horn.

A steel dispersion ring.

No _wonder_ Sunset Shimmer looked like the walking dead, her eyes empty and hollow.

"I don't know what you think you saw," Spike said in a deadly soft voice, flickers of flame escaping from gritted teeth, "but if it hadn't been for Sunset Shimmer, Princess Twilight would still be in another world, trapped there. So would I. We would be adoring slaves of three Sirens there. Princess Twilight wouldn't have defeated them without Sunset Shimmer's help. She's _our friend_.

"Now get those awful things off her _right now!_" he roared, paws leaving the ground for a moment as a true jet of green flame lanced out.

Between Spike's obvious fury and the now-flat glare they were getting from the Castle Guardsponies proper, the two of them were beginning to look uneasy, tails nervously swishing back and forth.

"What are you two even doing here anyway?" the highly irate little dragon growled. "You're not assigned to our Guard."

"Lord Spike," the Crystal Pony Guardspony answered for them. "These two have been sent directly from Canterlot Castle bearing an urgent message for Princess Twilight."

"So," Spike rumbled, little wisps of flame still issuing from his clenched jaws. "What's this message?"

The senior Royal Canterlot Guardspony paused a moment, obviously considering his orders and the actual situation currently obtained. "Princess Twilight Sparkle has been urgently summoned to immediately attend Princess Luna at Canterlot Castle."

The muzzle and hobbles on Sunset Shimmer abruptly flashed into nonexistence as their spells were dismissed. As his partner levitated the dispersion ring up and off her horn Sunset Shimmer gave a powerful shudder. Turning her head she gazed at Spike. "Thank you," she softly yet fervently said.

"What _did_ happen back there?" he asked her.

"I . . . I don't know Spike," she honestly replied. "Everything was fine at first. And then the Mirror, it . . . it just seemed to explode." She slowly, haltingly, explained what had occurred, as best as she could remember, and as she described how oddly Princess Twilight had been acting Spike grew more and more fretful, gazing down the pathway and wondering how much longer the medical team was going to take.

"I did cast magic on Twilight, Spike. I _had_ to!" she almost sobbed. "She was about to teleport out of the room and that would have been the end of her!" and at that she did cry, tears that had been filling her eyes spilling now down her cheeks. "I put her to sleep, but that was all. I _swear_!"

Spike glared at the two Royal Canterlot Guardsponies, quite audibly growling his anger. Thankfully whatever he'd said about them was low enough to be inaudible. But then he grew thoughtful as something the senior of the two had said just earlier registered. "Why Princess Luna?" he asked. "Shouldn't she still be asleep? Why not Princess Celestia? And why didn't Princess Celestia send her summons through _me_ like all the messages she sends to Twilight?"

The two of them looked at each other then back at Spike. The senior, once again, seemed to be weighing orders versus initiative. Finally he sighed then nodded to himself. "That is why Princess Twilight had been urgently summoned. Princess Celestia has been struck down by some sort of magic and is in a coma."

With an anguished cry Sunset Shimmer rocked her head back and keened as her legs trembled, then slowly collapsed to the ground, as Spike stood there, stunned and shocked.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Sunset _Shimmer?_"

The young woman sternly gazing at them could not _possibly_ be anyone else, absolutely identical in appearance to the classmate and friend they knew so well.

Knew so well_ now_, anyway.

In fact, shivers rippled through Applejack and Pinkie Pie at the unhappily-familiar, disdainful and dismissive, sneer Sunset Shimmer was leveling upon Twilight Sparkle. Velvet Sky and Wiz Kid hadn't had as many interactions with the old Sunset Shimmer, but even they could remember her former persona with enough accuracy to feel uneasiness at the uncanny semblance.

As soon as all of them had simultaneously blurted out her name, though, Sunset Shimmer's expression changed, and Twilight's stomach plummeted at that alteration. "How do you all know who—"

"Sunset Shimmer, so pleased to meet you!" Pinkie Pie gushed, stepping forward and pumping Sunset Shimmer's hand in greeting. "Twilight's told us all about her amazing RA, and it's an honor to actually meet you."

The rest remained frozen in place, Twilight's expression looking rather ghastly, as Pinkie Pie heroically forged onward.

"Um . . . ah . . . I see." Trying to withdraw her hand from Pinkie Pie's piston-pumping handshake her expression changed again, back to the scornful contempt she'd started off with. "_Miss_ Sparkle," she began. "Perhaps you can explain what you're doing here with unauthorized visitors? You know the rules as well as I do," she admonished, although by her tone she was clearly suggesting that Twilight was totally clueless and inept. "_All_ visitors need to be preauthorized. And then there's that awful racket from that pet of yours. You know pets aren't normally allowed in this building," she berated, "and it's only because Professor has requested a deviance that you've been allowed to keep him this long." Sunset Shimmer smiled, a look that a shark would envy and one that contained all the warmth of a frozen star. "You _also_ remember being told that if he disturbs the residents again that that permission would be revoked?"

"Oh Miss Shimmer," Pinkie Pie looked at the sneering young woman who was absolutely delighting in triumph, "Please don't be angry at Twilight. It's really our fault. We're, ummm, we're only in town for today, and we've been wanting to check out Everfree University. Ah, for the kids," she smiled brightly, patting Wiz Kid and Velvet Sky on their heads. "They've been really eager to come visit, and especially for Twilight to show them her, ah, erm, her work."

"Oh please!" the snide Resident Advisor rolled her eyes. "I think they're just a little young to be considering—"

She completely missed the flash of fire in their eyes. But sweet as sweet they started talking right over her, the sugar in their voices thick and syrupy. "I'm really excited to see Miss Sparkle's equations detailing the classical wave-particle association, evanescent wave coupling, and the application of the non-dispersive wave-equation from acoustics applied to 'waves on strings'," Wiz Kid excitedly chirped.

"And how she's applied Maxwell's wave-equation to light. _And_ the way she's utilized Schrödinger's equation!" Velvet Sky gushed, in the tones young girls usually reserve for their favorite boy band.

They went back and forth a few more times, as their classmates' eyes glazed and the RA's burned with thwarted fire.

"Well, perhaps I was mistaken," she gritted out. "You have such charming children," she oozed.

"Thank you!" "Thankee kindly."

Applejack facepalmed, looking as if she wanted to sink right into the floor . . . which she desperately wished would somehow happen. Sunset Shimmer looked back and forth between Pinkie Pie and Applejack. "Just whose children are they?"

"Hers." "Hers." Pinkie Pie and Applejack pointed at each other.

Before Sunset Shimmer's suspicions could fully form Velvet Sky looked at her and brightly smiled. "They're _both_ our mothers!"

Wiz Kid solemnly added, "We have a very progressive family."

Shaking her head as if having taken a jab to the chin Sunset Shimmer stabbed a finger at Twilight. Sharply she bit off each word as if iron nails. "Fine. Take them on a little tour of your rooms. But if that mutt of yours makes another peep . . .," she trailed off in a not-at-all idle threat.

"Yes Miss Shimmer." "Yes Ma'am." "Thankee Ma'am."

Giving Twilight one last daggered glare she turned about, almost storming her way back down the hall to her own room.

Once they were sure she was out of earshot the two kids looked at Pinkie Pie and Applejack with disgusted looks. "Honestly! We can't take you anywhere!"

"Pinkie Pie," Twilight sounded amazed. "That . . . that was pretty brilliant!" Wiz Kid and Velvet Sky nodded in agreement.

"How did you know what a RA was?" Velvet Sky asked, quite curious.

"And how did you know she was the RA?" Wiz Kid added.

"Easy Peasy!" Pinkie Pie grinned. "Maud went to school here for her Master's Degree, before she went off to earn her Rocktorate in Geology." Then she pointed up the hallway toward the front entrance. "And I'd looked at the directory when we came in; it listed S. Shimmer, RA."

"Twalaight; you OK?"

"Huh? Oh." Twilight shook her head. "I just was really surprised is all. It never occurred to me that Sunset Shimmer must have an analogue the same way I do, and that you and Pinkie Pie do, too." She gazed down at the two younger kids. "For all I know there is a Velvet Sky and a Wiz Kid somewhere in Equestria as well, and I just haven't met them yet."

Turning back to the threshold she cupped her hands again and placed them back against the door. "Hey Spike," she softly said. "It's just me: Twilight. And some friends." She paused a moment, reconsidering; reminding herself that this wasn't _her_ Spike, an intelligent baby dragon, but was the other Twilight's Spike, a dog. A dog just like Winoma, Applejack's pet, companion and work dog. So just how _did_ Applejack speak to Winoma again? She wished she could remember. Ah well, she'd heard Fluttershy often enough dealing with Angel Bunny when he became obnoxious, so . . .

"That's my good widdle girl . . . erm, boy," she cooed. "Yes you are, yes you are!" From the other side of the door she could hear a soft whine. Taking the key from Velvet Sky she unlocked the door as she kept speaking. "Twilight's coming in now, and her friends are with her. Won't that be fun?" Turning the knob she carefully started pushing the door open, almost squeaking as a soft, glistening black nose peeked out, followed by a panting purple muzzle with a lolling wet pink tongue.

"That's it. That's my good boy!" Twilight nudged the door a bit further open, and before she knew it Spike had pushed his way all the way outside and into the hallway, jumping up, paws against her legs, little stub tail wagging so fast it was a blur.

It was almost painful seeing this Spike, for he was so absolutely physically identical to _her_ Spike that her heart tightened. Crouching down Spike hopped onto the newly-created lap, paws on her chest and licking her face. For an instant Twilight recoiled in dismay, and almost revulsion, and it took her several moments to realize her visceral response was because she was reacting as if this were her Spike.

_This isn't going to be easy_, she thought to herself. _He looks so much like him that it's scary. I think what's throwing me is that this Spike is just an animal. Makes me wonder, what would happen if he went to Equestria? Would he change into a baby Dragon like Spike, but with just an animal intellect? Or would he remain a dog there, too, like Winoma?_

Well, Twilight might be having adjustment issues, but Spike wasn't having any such troubles. As far as _he_ was concerned this was his Twilight, and he kept wriggling and squirming in delight atop her lap.

"Kinda odd comparin' this un t' yer Spike," Applejack said, unknowingly echoing Twilight's very thoughts. "Cute as a button though ain't he?" she admired as she scratched the ecstatic dog behind his ears.

Twilight nodded in agreement. He was cute. And as long as she kept her eyes closed, or focused elsewhere, she was OK. But every time she caught sight of this Spike it left an ache in her heart. She sorely missed her Spike, and badly wished he was here with her. Never before had she realized, not with the intensity she was experiencing at this moment, what a comfort her "Number One Assistant" always had been!

Glancing back down the hallway she softly considered, "I think we should go inside now. Before we bother anyone else."

Setting Spike down she opened the door wider before entering, pausing just inside because of how dim it was. The few windows had thick drapes that were fully closed, the only inside illumination a nightlight from another room. The other four followed her inside, crowding up besides her. Twilight squeaked as Pinkie Pie closed the door behind them, as once that had closed the room was plunged into Stygian gloom.

A few seconds later and suddenly Twilight was blinking her eyes, dazzled by the bright lights. "There we go!" said a satisfied Applejack, who had just found the wall switch. "Whoa," she softly murmured as she glanced around.

"Wow!" Pinkie Pie chirped. "It's a mausomuseum!"

"A _whut?_" Applejack exasperatedly asked.

"You know! A mausomuseum!"

Oddly enough Twilight knew exactly what Pinkie Pie meant. With Spike happily frisking about her feet as she walked about and explored, she realized her excitable friend had nailed the shoe right on the hoof.

The place was a neat as a pin. Aseptically so. There were no pictures on the walls. Tabular arrays and charts, yes; pictures or photos, none at all. There were no knickknacks, no bric-à-brac anywhere. Everything had been stripped down of anything decorative or nonessential, leaving only the purely functional behind.

The atmosphere was funereal, utterly cheerless and drab, feeling very much like a mausoleum.

Obviously the others felt the same way as she did because even the ever-ebullient Pinkie Pie was quiet and subdued as they crept about as a group through the residence. Spike followed them about, sniffing all five of them as he did.

The living and dining rooms were open floor plan, forming a reasonably-generous L shape that you entered as soon as you walked through the front door. There was a wall closet along the left side at the rear of that area, and a kitchenette across from the entrance and to the right. A short hallway on the right led to an amply-sized bedroom. In the middle of that short hallway and on the right side was a walk-in closet, while on the left was the bathroom and a small, apartment-sized, washer-drier combination stacked one atop the other.

The bedroom might have been of plentiful proportions, but it was jammed pack full of anything _except_ a bed. Applejack softly whistled as she peered around Twilight's shoulder. "Looks like some sorta mad scientist's lab'ratory don't it?"

"Hmmm," she murmured in reply, then paced over to one wall, intently staring at a cork board there. "Well," she stated," if I had any lingering doubts about things, _this_," she pointed at the board, "sure just paid them to rest."

Smack-dab in the middle was a photograph of Canterlot High School, surrounded by pushpin-secured charts, graphs, readouts and tables. "She hadn't just chosen Canterlot High at random," Twilight declared. "And all of this," she gestured to the information tacked to the board, pushpins joined by thick red yarn to the middle one holding up the photograph, "sure seems to indicate she had good reason for that deduction, too."

Wiz Kid and Velvet Sky immediately started approaching the wall bookcase, which was crammed full of reference books, text books and similar publications, drawn to that like Breezies to sweets. But within a few steps they caught themselves and, instead, headed over to the workstation area. Wiz Kid began checking out the desk there while Velvet Sky started sorting through various documents atop the bench.

As much as Twilight was intrigued with science and research she knew, beyond any doubt, that this was _way_ beyond her knowledge and understanding, so she left those two to their own devices and continued exploring the place.

They did find her bed: it was a simple, narrow, padded cot, set inside the walk-in closet off the hallway. The bathroom was even more austere, and Twilight couldn't help thinking how horrified Rarity would be at the Spartan sterility there. The living and dining room areas were effectively devoid of furniture save for a small desk and chair; several worktables, yes, holding varying degrees of clutter in differing stages of completion, but absolutely no cozy, comfortable furnishings. There was no stereo, no television.

It was the kitchenette, though, that brought a lump to Twilight's throat.

The refrigerator held nothing but bottled water; the freezer packaged TV dinners. The cabinets contained, for the most part, nothing but packets after packets of instant noodles.

For the most part.

One upper cabinet held multiple rows of neatly-stacked cans of dog food. Not generic brands, and not the identical flavor. No. No, there were multiple varieties, from different vendors, and of quality brands instead of generic. The lower cabinet contained several tightly-sealed plastic containers holding different flavors and styles of dried kibble, as well as treats —rawhide bones and chew toys; biscuits, dental chews and jerky; crunchy and chewy snacks— while off to one side was a small plastic tub literally overflowing with dog toys.

A pullout drawer between the two cabinets stored canine medicines and vitamins on one side, and on the opposite side held so many different combs, brushes and other grooming supplies that Twilight felt like she was looking at something her fashionista friend —in _either_ world!— would have organized.

An exquisite, almost palatial, dog bed was positioned at the far end of the kitchenette. Nearby was a small bowl, currently empty, with an automatic water fountain next to it, the stream of water tinkling as it cascaded down.

Something inside Twilight caught, then tightened, gripping her hard, the lump in her throat growing even thicker. "Twalaight?" Applejack asked, alarmed at the sudden change in her friend. "You OK?"

Twilight shook her head, her vision blurry as tears filled them; then nodded, not wanting to upset her. "I'm OK," she replied, knowing even as she spoke that her voice was going to tell Applejack that she wasn't at all 'OK'.

Because she really wasn't.

_If Princess Celestia hadn't ordered me to Ponyville_, Twilight thought, _If I hadn't met my friends there, this _would_ have been me. Not _could_ have been me . . ._ would _have been me_. _This Twilight is as much trapped as I'd been, and she doesn't even realize it. _I_ sure hadn't realized it. I was happy the way I was. I hadn't just _thought_ I was, I'd _known_ it. _She gazed around the cheerless residence, eyesight swimming as tears filled, then trickled, down her cheeks. _Oh, please Princess Celestia, please see how badly this Twilight Sparkle needs your help!_ she mentally begged.

"It _is_ kinda dreary isn't it," Applejack softly said, stepping up and squeezing her friend's shoulder. "Looks like her only friend is Spike here."

Hearing his name Spike gave a soft 'woof' before gazing quite entreatingly at the treat cabinet, stubby tail wagging like mad. Applejack softly chuckled as she opened the cabinet. "Little beggar," she grinned, taking out a soft chew bone and handing it to the ecstatic dog.

She blinked, eyes widening, as Twilight abruptly grabbed her in a tight, almost strangulating, hug. "Whoa thar!" she exclaimed. "Whut in tarna—"

"Thank you," Twilight said, her voice thick and indistinct, muffled from her face being buried in her friend's shoulder. "Thank you for being my friend." _And for saving me from myself_, she mentally added, knowing that Applejack would hear that whether spoken aloud or not.

Applejack felt as if her heart was melting. Hugging back she softly murmured, her own voice suspiciously foggy, "Yer welcome Twailaight. Ah'l always be there fer you. _Always_."

Behind them Pinkie Pie was looking into the refrigerator and freezer, then the cabinets. "Bummer!" she pouted before pulling out her cell phone. "Anyone up for pizza? I'm _starving!_"


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The soft 'tock' of their hooves sounded shockingly loud as Sunset Shimmer paced down the corridor along with her escorts. And they _were_ escorts; guides, not jailers.

Not that escorts were actually necessary to _guide_ her, she distantly thought, choked up inside. Even after all these years she knew the paths of Canterlot Castle and its environs every bit as intimately as if only a day had elapsed.

As the wood under the drawbridge reverberated from their hoofsteps it had started, growing stronger as they'd quickly, yet gravely, paced through Canterlot itself and towards the castle proper. Entering the castle itself felt like a punch in her barrel. For a moment, no longer, it felt as if she'd never left at all, that she'd only gone into the city for a spot of shopping.

For a moment only.

But circumstances didn't permit lingering on that agonizing aspect of homecoming —and make no mistake, it was terribly painful—

Not when Princess Celestia might very well be dying!

She wasn't surprised when they didn't head towards the throne room and, instead, entered the private wing of the Palace reserved for Princess Celestia herself. Here, too, she knew the way, for how often had she spent time with her teacher, her mentor, in her personal domain here?

Her escorts —both Royal Guardspony officers— paused outside the bedroom suite. One of them raised a hoof and sharply knocked.

"Who is it?" came the curt reply, from an unfamiliar —to Sunset Shimmer, anyway— feminine voice.

"Lieutenant Arrow Storm, Your Highness."

"Enter," came the brusque response.

The second Royal Guardspony opened the door and motioned for Sunset Shimmer to enter. She was actually so distraught, so anxious, so terribly frantic about her beloved teacher, that she'd actually taken several steps into the room before what he'd said filtered through her subliminal reception and into her consciousness.

_Your _Highness_? But . . . But I thought Princess Celestia was in a coma? Who did he . . . oh. Oh. Oh, _oh_ my . . ._

Her thoughts slithered to a stop as she came to an abrupt halt, head rocking back, eyes wide as saucers.

Standing next to Princess Celestia's bed was another pony. An alicorn to be precise. She wasn't any bigger than Sunset Shimmer herself. Or Princess Twilight Sparkle, for that matter. She certainly wasn't as big as Princess Celestia!

She swallowed. _Hard_. Physical size, she was realizing, didn't necessarily mean a thing.

This alicorn was, for all her diminutive physical stature, radiating a power that was literally palpable to her. Sunset Shimmer felt as if she were shrinking in size, down to a foal, and had the eeriest sensation of this dreadfully imposing mare suddenly looming over her. Light blue eyes that harshly glittered pinned her to the spot; her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth.

She'd been so overwrought with worry, first over Princess Twilight and then Princess Celestia, that she really hadn't thought all that much about matters, especially ones that she hadn't personally experienced while she'd still been in Equestria. When she'd left, there'd only been one reigning monarch, only one Royal Princess of Equestria.

But . . . now there were _two_.

And Sunset Shimmer was, quite unexpectedly, with no warning at all, facing the second.

Swallowing hard a second time she hastily stretched out her right foreleg while sharply bending her left at the knee, extending her neck into a rather clumsy bow. "Y-y-your H-h-h-highness," she stuttered. For although she'd never actually _met_ Princess Luna, there was _no_ mistaking to whom she was giving obeisance.

"We were expecting Princess Twilight," came a cool statement, yet one that seemed to ring in her head like brazen bronze gongs and would brook no foolishness. "And thou art?"

"S-s-s-unset S-shimmer, Your Highness," the flustered unicorn whispered.

"Ah yes; the Betrayer."

She didn't think it was possible to have shrunk any smaller, but she'd been wrong.

"Hold," Princess Luna commanded, holding out a shod forehoof, silencing anything Sunset Shimmer might have intended to say. That hadn't been at all necessary, for the poor mare hadn't even considered any response to that dreadful "entitlement". "Prithee, accept mine apologies," the grim-visaged alicorn intoned. "That was unkind and churlish of me. I have no excuse save grief, yet that is a poor defense natheless. Rise Sunset Shimmer."

Gawkily rising to her hooves, feeling more awkward than she had in years, she found herself standing almost nose-to-nose and horn-to-horn with Princess Luna, who was deeply gazing into her eyes with an intensity that was frightening.

There was a soft, pained gasp from the bed; Sunset Shimmer instantly jerked her head about, so fast her vision spangled. "Princess Celestia!" she cried out.

Unseen by the distraught unicorn, Princess Luna's stern visage softened. The pain in Sunset Shimmer's voice told her everything she needed to know about this most prodigal of mares.

Stepping over and standing alongside Sunset Shimmer, Luna gazed down at her sister who was lying in bed, covered up to her chin beneath a griffin-down comforter. Except for the faint, shallow rise and fall of her chest there was little sign of life.

Without preamble Luna addressed Sunset Shimmer. "I had just retired to bed, having taken some respite after my nightly duties and labours, and having finished my ablutions. It seemed I had no sooner fallen into slumber when I abruptly awoke, terribly affrighted, a direful impression of doom and loss." She glanced sideways at the unicorn standing next to her. "It might surprise thee to know that even The Princess of The Night may have nightmares. But She can, and She does . . . and some never go away." She finished much more softly, almost inaudibly.

A moment passed, one that seemed to stretch for much longer, before she continued, giving a little toss of her head before speaking. "That dream —if dream it soothly was— was dire and dreadful, and didst but throw mine thoughts into a whirlwind of confusion and despair. I had tossed mine sheets off and staggered out of bed, still confounded and befuddled, whence from my door came a fearsome pounding." Princess Luna's dark coat rippled as skin twitched in memory. "'Twas the Royal Guards."

She paused a moment, gazing down at her older sister with an expression of mingled love and fear. "Mine sister had been holding Court, as is her wont in the morn. They say that, without warning, she simply collapsed." Gesturing with her muzzle at Celestia she finished, "As you see here. There has been no change in her condition."

Turning her head Luna gazed at the unicorn standing next to her. "Although We have detected no sign of magic upon Her, We are most certain the attack that has struck mine sister down is magical in nature. Certes, naught else could do so. Which is why We had summoned Princess Twilight Sparkle, for she is most puissant in magic. Why, therefore, has she not answered mine summons?"

Sunset Shimmer's face crumpled, and fresh tears filled her eyes. "Oh Your Highness," she replied, her voice thick and choked, "There's been a terrible accident!" Luna's head rocked back as the distraught unicorn continued, "It all started when . . ."

* * *

><p>They sat facing each other across a small, round table that normally held a vase of fresh flowers. The vase had been temporarily removed so that a small tea service could be placed there. Each for their own reasons —Luna, because she was normally asleep at this hour; Sunset Shimmer because she was too distraught and anxious to have any appetite at all— had turned down the offer of light hoof sandwiches.<p>

It was very quiet in Princess Celestia's bedroom. The drapes had been pulled back, giving the room both light and warmth, but nothing could truly dispel the chill that each of them felt deep down to the marrow of their bones.

Sunset Shimmer had long ago finished her account of what had transpired back in Ponyville, starting with their arrival in the Portal Room at the Castle of the Friendship Rainbow Kingdom, and ending with her having cast sleep on her friend to prevent her from potentially making a fatal error. She didn't mention being arrested; not to hide the fact that she'd been a suspect at first but to spare any potential repercussions against the two Royal Canterlot Guardsponies.

Princess Luna had remained silent the entire time, save for once. That had been when the tearful unicorn had taken complete responsibility for what had happened to Princess Twilight, claiming that if she'd just been faster, just had been more competent, she could have stopped the Book from going through the Crystal Mirror. If she _had_ stopped it, she'd quavered, the Mirror would not have been destroyed, and whatever had happened to Princess Twilight wouldn't have occurred. Luna had reached out a foreleg and lightly touched with her hoof the front of Sunset Shimmer's muzzle at that point, gently silencing her.

With a solicitousness that had brought even more tears to her eyes the Princess of The Night had mildly remonstrated Sunset Shimmer, protesting her self-accusations. Hindsight, she had said, was perfect; ponies were not. It was one thing to honestly appraise one's actions and accept fault where found, and quite another to assign blame when it was neither warranted nor deserved.

Her head snapped up from the contemplation of her teacup as Princess Luna cleared her throat. "I do not know thee as well as mine sister did," she said, dropping the Royal "We". "But she didst but speak of thee quite often." Sunset Shimmer felt her cheeks and throat heat. "Thou wert, she hath saith, as mighty in promise as any unicorn she kenned, lacking only," she gazed at her, "compassion, humility, charity, and sincerity to become truly extraordinary."

This time the deep flush was borne of intense shame, and she was startled when Princess Luna held up a hoof. Glancing up her eyes were caught and held by Luna's, feeling powerfully dumbfounded and staggered at the expression in that intense scrutiny. There was no judgment there, no condemnation. Instead, and rather shockingly, there was commiseration and understanding.

That surprise, however, lasted only a moment, for she suddenly realized a fact she'd already been aware of: the alicorn in front of her had once been Nightmare Moon. If _anypony_ could empathize with having fallen from grace and the struggle for redemption and forgiveness after that, _she_ would!

"Princess Twilight is, alas, unavailable, due to circumstances none may have predicted . . . or prevented. Wouldst thou, of thy courtesy," Luna gravely requested, "see what thou mayest do for mine sister?"

Her heart thudded painfully at that. Sunset Shimmer deeply bowed her head, tilting forward until the tip of her horn touched the tabletop. "It—" she swallowed, "It would be my honor, Your Highness."

Pushing her chair back she rose, taking a moment to catch her breath once up on all four hooves before solemnly pacing over to the side of the bed. There was no visible change in Princess Celestia's status, for good or ill. Sunset Shimmer's horn momentarily glowed as she "lifted" the comforter up, then down, exposing her to view.

It was odd. On the one hoof she looked as if simply peacefully sleeping; there were no visible signs of distress or pain. On the _other_ hoof, there was something . . . elusive . . . enigmatic . . . that plainly radiated a sense of wrongness.

For several minutes Sunset Shimmer simply watched, observing without actually focusing on any one thing in particular, before closing her eyes and "looking" at her magically, using first passive, then active, mage senses.

It was when she "looked" at Princess Celestia with active senses that she felt that wrongness even stronger. Contrary to expectations —and commonly understood, uncontroversial accepted fact— her passive sensing felt stronger than her active had.

Carefully probing her prostrate form Sunset Shimmer continued the examination, her concentration as tightly focused as never before. There didn't seem to be an iota of magic anywhere about her, and that was just wrong. Not peculiar, not unusual; just unmistakably, outright _wrong_. Opening her eyes and blinking a bit she started simultaneously looking and "looking", overlapping the purely visual with her inner, arcane senses.

And _that_ was when something stuck out like a sore hoof.

Her normal perception clearly saw Princess Celestia's cutie mark, plain as day and as sharply distinct as ever. But to her mage sense . . . it was so dim as to be practically invisible, her flank appearing almost as blank as a foal's.

"That's odd," she murmured, her voice distant, so utterly she was concentrating. "I wonder why—"

Her voice cut off with swift, shocking suddenness as she dropped to the ground as if shot, all of her magic drained from her the instant she'd fully focused her power on that ghostly phantasmic cutie mark.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

The urn was solid crystal, found only in one place in all of Equestria. It was a priceless antique, and weighed almost forty pounds.

It was also a blur as it shot across the room, impacting against the far wall into splinters the size of toothpicks, leaving a gouge in the stone of the wall itself.

There were eight ponies and one baby dragon in the room, all but one of them huddled together in absolute, sheer terror across the room from the eighth.

"Duck!" screamed Applejack as a dresser followed the urn. It fared no better, the beautiful mahogany, gorgeously engraved, disintegrating into matchsticks, the fabrics within momentarily hovering in the air before being shredded into bits of threads.

The eighth pony was Princess Twilight Sparkle . . . or, at least, _looked_ like her.

She was standing at the far end of the room, where the enormous canopy bed _had_ rested. That was one of the first objects to be destroyed. Not broken, not wrecked. _Destroyed_. Her wings were tightly compressed to her sides, she was standing stiff-legged and braced, and there wasn't a shred of sanity in her expression. She was literally incoherent with rage, flames roiling in her eyes, wordless ululations of fury so intense it was painful.

All of them had slight bleeding cuts and scrapes from flying debris, and it was only by Celestia's good graces that none of them were more badly hurt, for it was patently obvious that the raging alicorn was simply flinging objects any which way, with no rhyme or reason to their direction of flight.

She stood there, panting, the room now bereft of any intact, inanimate object it had once possessed. And now she turned and faced the trembling, terrified group hunkered together, and they whimpered as her eyes flashed, turning completely white, as an aura of blinding coruscation surrounded her . . .

. . . as the stone beneath her hooves began cracking and spalling.

"Run!" several ponies screamed. Hooves slipped and slid across the polished stone floor as they raced to the empty doorway, the thick door itself having been blasted to sawdust some moments ago.

"Yes," a dreadful, petrifying voice belled out. "Run! Leave! NOW!" Nostrils flared, the insides glowing scarlet. Satisfied at their abrupt and immediate departure she started to turn but halted, for not all of them had left. She turned back, fully facing the one pony that remained behind, staring at him the same hard, glittering way she'd fixed every object she'd destroyed before heaving it through the air. "I said LEAVE!" she raged.

His legs were wobbling so hard she could see that from where she stood. He was quaking so violently his glasses fell off his muzzle. "I . . . I can't," he gargled out in an agonized tone.

She stamped the floor with a forehoof, shattering a small crater there. He closed his eyes, so tightly it was painful, then repeated in almost a whisper, "I . . . I can't leave."

"Why not?" she snorted in fury.

He swallowed, once. Then, shocking her, he took a deep breath before looking directly at her. In a voice that was suddenly composed, and much calmer than he visibly appeared or had to be feeling he simply said, "Because I'm a doctor, and because you're my patient. And because you need me."

"I'm not sick, and I don't need a doctor," she snapped.

Moving with extreme care and deliberation he crouched down and retrieved his glasses, slipping them back in place as he straightened up.

"I didn't say you were sick," he clarified. "I just said that you needed me. And you _do_."

Suddenly whatever energy her rage had fueled drained away, leaving her weak and dizzy. "There's nothing you can do," she whispered, feeling utterly exhausted. "There's nothing _anyone_ can do."

She turned to look at herself in the mirror —again— and blinked in surprise, startled, as the mirror was no longer there. And then the shambles of the room abruptly registered, the utter destruction that had scoured the chamber to bare stone and had left nothing behind and intact save for the two of them.

_What have I become?_ she mentally wailed, _What sort of monster am I now?_

It wasn't just the form she now wore that was the focus of her plaint; it was the fact that she'd been the source of this appalling, monstrous storm of devastation. She didn't remember doing _any of it!_ Feeling the leash on her temper fraying, that tenuous control unraveling, _that_ she remembered. She remembered feeling that rage finally loosed from its cage, bursting free, ravenous with hunger.

She remembered the feeling of exhilaration as she surrendered to that metaphoric bloodlust.

Choking back a sob Twilight deeply shuddered in self-disgust and loathing. She hadn't lost control like this in _years_. This wasn't _like_ her at all. This _wasn't_ her at all. This wasn't at all the person she'd fought and struggled all her life to become.

Then again, she _wasn't_ the person she used to be.

She was an _alicorn_ now.

She didn't hear the light hoofsteps approaching, so it wasn't until she caught him out of the corner of her eye that Twilight realized she had company. Lifting her head up and turning it at the same time she gazed at the unicorn now standing next to her. Considering the violence that had just occurred and the wreckage left behind, she couldn't help but forlornly note, "You're being terribly brave don't you think?"

"You need me," is all he said in reply.

* * *

><p>Her stomach ached with hunger. She hadn't eaten since being transplanted here —wherever <em>here<em> was; knowing it was called Equestria by its putative citizens was of absolutely no help at all in determining location— and she'd no real idea how much time had actually elapsed. But for all that her belly was insistently clamoring for attention she found that she had absolutely no appetite. But at least hunger was a familiar sensation, and she clung to that like a drowning woman to a scrap of lumber.

There were other sensations swirling and churning inside her, ones she'd never experienced before and had no idea how to control. Control was vital to her; lack of control was a weakness, something to be despised.

It was something she feared, as well, but would never confess that to anyone, least of all herself. _Refused_ to admit that. Fear was disabling, anger was empowering, and if given the choice between being prey or predator, well . . . she knew which one she was going to be.

She did, however, now have _names_, at least, for most of those new feelings. Doctor Horse —and then, later on, joined by his assistant Nurse Redheart— had stayed with Twilight. They'd just let her talk and ramble, or remain silent, or agitatedly pace; whatever she needed, or wanted, at that particular moment. It helped that they were professional specialists; Twilight might not have truly let her guard completely down with either of them, but at least she could appreciate a fellow professional.

It also helped —a very great deal, in fact— that he was a _unicorn_.

Most of those unsettling feelings she was experiencing were the same, albeit familiar, ones most unicorns would feel, as they involved the innate, as well as learned, talents and skills common to them. But now, thanks to Doctor Horse, she had names for them: levitation; teleportation; telekinesis; sensitivity to magic auras. Being an _alicorn_, however, those sensations were exceptionally stronger than your average run-of-the-barn unicorn.

And, _unlike_ their earth pony and pegasus pony cousins whose magics were passive, the magics of unicorns were active.

Twilight remembered the title of her Doctorate thesis: Magic: A Natural, Measurable Force, and she choked back a strangled . . . well, it wasn't a laugh, exactly, for it was completely devoid of humor.

_Well, it's definitely a _natural_ force_, she sardonically thought, _I just wasn't ever anticipating having that naturally generating inside _me_._

Lying down on the padded cushion they'd had delivered to the room —Twilight flat-out refused to leave there and move elsewhere, destruction notwithstanding, and equally refused to allow admission to anyone else except her doctor and nurse— she desperately tried putting her world back into order and control.

It had been bad enough waking to this new form of hers when it had been just that other unicorn present (and even now she was subliminally shocked at how easy she was already accepting outre and outrageous things like "unicorn", "pegasus", "magic" and talking, _intelligent_ ponies). She hadn't reacted well to that. Actually, to be scrupulously honest, she admitted to herself, she'd gone ballistic. Not like anyone could have realistically blamed her!

Now, had she awoken this last time to _just_ that flamboyantly-blazoned unicorn again, Twilight was —almost— certain events would have progressed better than they had. But, instead . . .

Closing her eyes Twilight's thoughts drifted back to just a few hours past . . .

She gradually roused to consciousness, becoming aware, as she was stirring, of a subdued clangor of multiple voices; most feminine in tone, one definitely masculine and one sounding quite juvenile in timbre. And the moment she cracked open a bleary eye they were on her, clamoring.

"Twilight! Thank Celestia you're all right!" "Twalaight! Y'all gave us such a fraight!" "Oh Twilight! We were so worried!"

Twilight. Twilight. _Twilight_. TWILIGHT. **TWILIGHT**!

She clapped hands over ears . . . and, since they were now _hooves_, she almost clobbered herself unconscious again. How they knew her name she'd no idea. They were crowding her, invading her space, making it impossible for her to ground and center herself, to regain precious control.

Outrageous colors surrounded her, blindingly dizzying with their enormous panoramic range. One creature hovered almost overhead, more colorful than the others. Another, a shocking bubblegum-pink, was doing . . . _cartwheels_? Then a . . . _cannon?_ . . . appeared out of nowhere? Discharging _confetti?_

Fear gibbered in her mind, slobbering in its hunger to consume. She hated being afraid, for that was also loss of control. She hated how it made her feel, she hated what it did to her.

She was afraid. Terrified. Horrified.

A tiny rational part of her that remained lucid was pitiless in its automatous categorization:

She was a pony. One with wings. _Pegasus_, that despicable lucid mind supplied.

These others, they were all ponies, too. Or ponies with a horn. _Unicorn_. Or ponies with wings. _Pegasus_

No, not _everyone_ in the room was a pony, or pony variant. There was also a small . . . lizard of some sort. Bipedal at that. One whose coloration was disturbingly familiar.

They all knew her; or _thought_ they did, anyway. The din they were raising was deafening, and they were jostling each other so much her pained eyes couldn't seem to focus on any one of them at a time.

And now there was yet _another_ pon . . . unicorn! . . . stepping forward. This one wearing _clothing!?_

Twilight felt her grip slipping faster and faster through an already tenuous grasp. This newest arrival, implausibly garbed in a lab coat over a shirt and tie, with spectacles balanced on his muzzle, stepped up to her bedside as he pleaded with the others to take a few steps back and to settle down.

It took a few moments for the seeming bedlam to quiet down. Loud sush-ings, sounding like a berserk teakettle, issued from the pink, bouffant one. Gradually they migrated to the farther wall, huddling together. The lab-coated one finally gave a low "harumph", clearing his throat before turning back and facing her. "I'm Doctor Horse, from Ponyville Hospital. They tell me there's been an accident, and that you've been injured, and have also suffered several bouts of unconsciousness. Tell me," he asked, his tone now clinical, "do you remember anything about the accident?"

Twilight's eyes widened as his horn suddenly began gently glowing, that same colored aura surrounding both a pencil and notepad which was now hovering in front of him, both unmistakably positioned for taking notes. The contrast between the chaos of just moments ago and the cool, calm, measured professionalism of this . . . doctor . . . did much to take the edge of incipient hysteria from her. Her agile mind quickly sharpened into objective mode as she switched intellect for emotion.

"Ah . . . no. Actually, I have no idea what's happened."

The pencil made a notation as he continued. "I see. I've been told you've been struck in the back of the head by a heavy, falling object. You do have quite the lump back there. Other than that, however, I wasn't able to discern any additional physical injuries," he stated with a slight emphasis on physical. "Are you in any pain?"

"Pain? Well, I do have a bit of a headache, yes." Reaching back she lightly touched the lump there, wincing as a hard hoof contacted it. "It's still a bit tender," she stated. "But actual pain? No. Otherwise it's just a general overall discomfort, yes."

Again a scribble. "Any specific location?"

"Well, more of a general malaise. Idiopathic."

His eyes glinted behind the glasses, his brow rising at the latter words, but otherwise he remained unflappable. "Do you remember your name?"

She wanted to roll her eyes at that question —and the ones she knew would be following— but understood he was only doing his job, something she could respect. The truth was, he was doing it so well that she was actually overlooking the fact she was speaking to a unicorn at the moment.

"Twilight Sparkle."

Another scribble.

"Date of birth?"

There was no scribble this time at her answer. The pencil hovered in place, for the answer he received made no sense to him, a dating notation completely foreign.

"Age?"

He recorded her answer, as that was something recognizable. However, the pencil would have a good rest after that.

"Birthplace?" "Parents?" "Today's date?" "Do you know the name of today?" "What school did you go to?" "Where do you live?"

Oddly enough, the fact that her answers were baffling the doctor was actually having the opposite effect on Twilight.

"What is the last thing you clearly remember?"

She felt a jolt at that, and before he could ask any further questions she held up a hoof for silence. What _was_ the last thing she could clearly remember? That was the key, she was sure of that. And it wasn't the last thing she could clearly remember in _this_ body that was going to hold any answers.

She remembered waking up this last time, but that was in this body, this winged pony one. (Twilight hadn't, as yet, realized she had a horn in addition to wings) She less clearly remembered waking up a time prior to that, but that one, too, had been in this body. She wasn't really sure if she'd recovered consciousness any time prior to that one; she seemed to muzzily recall doing so at least once, but she wasn't at all positive.

None of those were what she was seeking, however. All of these recollections were with her occupying a form that wasn't her own. So . . . what was the last thing she could remember, back when she was herself? She was . . . she was . . .

Ah ha! Had she fingers she would have snapped them; a hoof was not only a poor substitute for that but an impossible one to boot. In a single blinding moment Twilight remembered exactly what she'd been doing!

She'd gone out to investigate the mysterious energy signals and emissions she'd been detecting emanating from Canterlot High School. That statue, to be precise. She'd taken her portable equipment on-site, and had to wait until those girls —something in the back of her head abruptly tingled a moment at that, but she was too busy at the moment with other matters to track that down— had left before taking her instruments over to the statue. Finally they'd left; she'd carried it all over . . . started recording the energy signals.

No. Wait.

Twilight nibbled a nail, so engrossed she completely missed the fact that it was actually a _hoof_ she was gnawing on.

The signals had abruptly stopped _before_ she'd taken her apparatus over. She remembered —now— how furious she'd been at those two girls. Because she'd had to wait for them to leave, the energy emissions had stopped before she'd had her equipment in position. And then she'd . . .

She sharply gasped, eyes wide, her gaze abruptly snapping to the pencil and pad hovering in midair, surrounded by a conspicuously glowing aura.

. . . Her research: documenting the correlation between quantum effects —like quantum teleportation and tunneling— and that of "magic".

Her eyes shifted to his horn, also glowing.

"Magic," she softly whispered.

"Eh?" Doctor Horse's eyes crossed a moment as he looked upwards towards his horn, unable to actually _see_ it but able to perceive the auroral gleam. Then those puzzled orbs flashed downwards, fixing Twilight's with supremely sharp discernment. "Yes. Magic," he confirmed. "That surprises you?" His pencil suddenly snapped to attention, poised and ready over the notepad.

Everyone was startled —herself, included— by her sudden bark of laughter. "You could say that, yes. Since where I come from there is no magic. Well, nothing like _that_," she gestured with a forehoof, "anyway."

Feeling much more steady and secure, both mentally as well as physically, Twilight flipped back the sheets and carefully wriggled out of bed and onto her hooves. "Ah . . . 'Where I come from'?" his voice sounded diffident but his eyes were quite the opposite.

Catching sight of a mirror Twilight paused a moment, then her eyes widened once again. _I have a horn, _too_? _She approached the mirror, tipping her head a bit left than right before shifting her body a bit left, then right, then opening her wings up a bit. _Huh. Looks just like me. Well, looks like me if I were to ever have transmogrified into a horned, winged pony, that is. Same hair color, just transformed into a mane and tail. Even the same eye color. So it's not a _cre_ation, it's definitely a _transform_ation._

"I think I know what happened," Twilight informed the doctor as she turned around and faced him. "Well, _mostly_, anyway. If I'm corr—"

She stopped so abruptly it took Doctor Horse by surprise. "Ye-ess?" he coaxed, several seconds having passed in silence.

As if discussing a clinical problem, her voice sounding detached, Twilight asked, "By any chance, do I resemble someone?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, yes," he replied, "you do." His gaze sharpened as his met hers, an odd sort of respect in that regard. "Forgive me for saying so, but I don't think there was much 'by any chance' behind your having asked that."

Her voice might sound detached, but her mind was anything _but_ disengaged. "Let me guess: I resemble a pegasus, ah, unicorn, umm . . . just what _is _this form called, anyway?" she asked, sounding peeved for a moment.

"Alicorn," he replied. "Please, go on," he requested, waving a forehoof in a cajoling motion. "You were saying?"

She was so focused on Doctor Horse she missed seeing all the others slowly creeping closer, straining to hear . . . and, for all of them, to _understand_, as well.

"Ah; alicorn. Thank you." His eyes glinted as he noticed the signs of somepony mentally filing away a fact. "So . . . as I was saying, I resemble an alicorn," she never stumbled over the unfamiliar word, "named 'Twilight Sparkle'."

Her head turned at hearing several sharp inhales behind her, and for a moment her eyes dangerously flashed at their proximity to her. But they were far enough away —and she was immersed deeply enough into her hypothesizing— to ignore for now.

This time he simply nodded, giving her the professional courtesy of listening as she worked her thoughts out as she was so obviously doing.

Her eyes widened yet again as that "something" that had tickled the back of her mind minutes ago abruptly snapped into sharp focus. A huge grin spread across her face as she stamped a hoof down in pleased excitement. That girl! Not that first one —which, now that she was thinking about it, also had a nagging familiarity— but the second one that had showed up. That hair. Those clothes . . .

She turned and looked at herself sideways in the mirror and nodded, both mentally and physically. Now that she brought that image, that memory, into her forebrain it all became crystal clear.

That other girl . . . had _also_ been Twilight Sparkle. The one from _this_ world. Whatever it was called.

_She must have passed through some sort of gateway_, Twilight mused. _And traveling from one plane to another must result in physiological changes as well. Which is why I'm an alicorn here. Because _she's_ an alicorn here. Our corporeal forms seem to transform so as to match the destination plane._

She began slowly pacing as she thought, completely oblivious now to anyone in the room with her.

_That statue_, she conjectured. That's_ why there's so much weird energy associated with it! _That's_ the gateway! The energy ceased because they'd passed through and obviously closed it at this end. But I'd recorded enough information to have powered it up _—accidentally, her mental voice whispered— _and open it from my end!_

Grinning like a loon —or Pinkie Pie on a normal day— Twilight announced to the doctor, "The reason I resemble _your_ Twilight Sparkle is because I'm Twilight Sparkle, too." Several of the ponies in the room softly groaned in anxious concern but Twilight paid them no heed. "We've swapped places; yours is in my world, and I've wound up here." She stiffened in surprise as she was suddenly interrupted by a juvenile voice throbbing with excitement.

"So _you're_ the Twilight Sparkle from Sunset Shimmer's world!"

She spun around so fast that her hooves skidded on the floor, and confronted the source of that outburst: that small, bipedal lizard creature. Eyes round with shock she took several hasty steps back. It _talked!?_

Then what it had said registered, and she shook her head hard enough she saw stars and whipped her mane violently back and forth. Sunset Shimmer, her RA? Ever since the day Professor had authorized one of those special, elite apartments for Twilight, Sunset Shimmer had done her dead-level best to sabotage her. What did that scheming, conniving, back-stabbing, despicable bint have to do with anything?

Spike came to an abrupt halt, seeing how tightly Twilight's ears had just pinned back. He hastily took several steps back, paws in the air in a placating gesture. "Sorry Twilight," he apologized. "I didn't mean to spook you. Wow!" he breathed, eyes sparkling. "This must all seem pretty strange to you, huh."

That, she thought, was a googolplex-dollar statement if ever there was one. And then yet another revelation clubbed her over the head.

"S-s-s-spike?" her voice rose in pitch.

Beaming, the baby dragon puffed out his chest and thumb-clawed his breastbone. "Yup! That's me all right! Your . . . well, _her_," he corrected, "Number One Assistant!"

This time when she shook her head in astonishment her ears, because they were perked forward, audibly flapped against the side of her head.

"Pinkie Pie said —that's _our_ Pinkie Pie over there by the way, not _their_ Pinkie Pie," the little lizard creature indicated the bubblegum pink pony with the puffy coiffure, "Their Pinkie Pie said that she'd seen you before in the city. Well, you and your dog, too."

_This_ Pinkie Pie started hopping up and down on all four hooves. "Pleased t'meetcha!" she beamed. "Ooo! Ooo!We need to throw you a Welcome-to-Ponyville-Party!"

Twilight closed her eyes, abruptly thrown out of her comfortable hypothesizing headspace by the apparition simply _oozing_ bonhomie at her.

"Easy thar Pinkie Pah," she heard someone drawl. "Settle down a bit and give her a chance t' breath."

"Oh, I simply _do_ wish Sunset Shimmer was still here. Perhaps she could shed more light on matters," said a refined voice.

"Oh my yes," reply a timid, breathy one. "But she simply _had_ to go to Canterlot."

"We should _all_ have gone," interjected another, this one sounding aggressive and pushy. "Who knows what's happened to Princess Celestia? Besides, can we really trust Sunset Shimmer?"

There were several sharp gasps, and an even sharper "Rainbow Dash! Really!"

"I mean, think about it Rarity," retorted that bellicose voice —obvious Rainbow Dash. "The same day —the same _hour!_— that Sunset Shimmer comes back —after how long?— and Princess Celestia is somehow attacked and flattened like a bad souffle? Does _that_ sound like coincidence to _you_?"

There was silence for several seconds, then the refined voice spoke up. "Rainbow Dash . . . what do _you_ know about making souffles?"

Before Rainbow Dash —whomever he, she or it was— could reply another voice spoke up. Well, "spoke up" was putting it pretty mildly to be honest. The moment this "Rainbow Dash" had made that thinly-veiled accusation Twilight started hearing something like a forge bellows being pumped.

That forge just erupted.

"KNOCK IT OFF!" roared a highly enraged voice. Twilight's eyes popped open, especially since the source of that furious detonation was standing almost at her side. It was that little lizard creature, that "Spike", and he wasn't looking all that tame and cute at the moment.

"I've just about had it today with idiots," he growled, and Twilight's eyes blinked as she saw literal tongues of green flames dancing in the lizard creature's flared nostrils. "First it was those Royal Canterlot Guardsponies, and now it's _you_?"

Since he was furiously glaring at the rainbow-palette pegasus, Twilight figured it was a safe bet that that one was the aforementioned Rainbow Dash.

"Ah," the pegasus started, head hanging down a bit, ears flagged. "Umm . . . sorry Spike. Guess I'm just, well . . ."

As quickly as he'd angered Spike deflated. "Yeah, I know," he nodded. "I think we all are. Worried, that is. Scared, too."

"Umm," Twilight insinuated herself. "This Sunset Shimmer . . . does she look like . . .," and proceeded to describe the first unicorn she'd ever seen in her life.

Spike was nodding. "That's her, yes. She was with you earlier, in fact. Ahh . . . not sure if you remember her or not. I mean, what with everything and all," he finished, punctuating the "everything" with a wave of his taloned paw.

For the first time ever Twilight looked up and directly gazed at one of the others that were in the room with her, locking her eyes with the temporarily-subdued Rainbow Dash, whose ears perked up noticing the scrutiny. They swiveled back as Twilight stated in a deadly, grim voice, "I have no idea what _your_ Sunset Shimmer is like. But if she's anything like the Sunset Shimmer_ I _know, I'd rather carry vipers in my blouse than have any dealings with her. At least when a viper bites you it's an honest bite." The sheer venom in her tone shocked them all.

Before Rainbow Dash's suspicions could be reignited Spike spoke up, in a voice that brook no dissension, "Well, _our_ Sunset Shimmer isn't like that at all."

"Well, not _anymore . . ._ maybe," Rainbow Dash muttered under her breath. "OK, OK!" she blurted, wings fanning as she backed away from an irate lizard.

"I wish Twilight was here," said the refined voice (Rarity, she matched voice with name, and now with unicorn). "With the six of us together we could go to Canterlot and be of assistance."

"We don't even know what's wrong," said the breathy, timid one; which was, she noted, the other pegasus. "Or even if we could be of any help."

"Aww c'mon Fluttershy," and now she had a name to go with the "face", Rainbow Dash having helpfully supplied it, "You _know_ it's only a matter of time before Princess Luna calls for us. I mean, who _else_ keeps saving Equestria from all sorts of disasters?"

There was a soft cough from one of the two, purely-plain ponies, and the only one of them, other than her physician, accoutered with anything —in this case, a cowboy hat, of all things. And as soon as said pony opened her mouth Twilight certainly understood the choice of headgear. "Ah hate t' burst yer bubble Rainbow Dash," she lazily drawled, "but Ah think th' correct answer t' that is Princess Twalaight Sparkle."

She lazily grinned, taking the sting out of her chastening. "Granted, Ah'll admit th' five of us have had a hoof or two involved once or twice."

She rolled her eyes as the bouncy pink one blurted, "Bubbles? We had bubbles and no one told me?"

"Not _those_ kind o' bubbles Pinkie Pah."

"Awwwwww." Pinkie Pie visibly wilted; literally, even her mane seemed to deflate a bit.

Twilight's nostrils flared, her eyes rolled at their juvenile posturings and posings. Tipping her head she gazed down at the little lizard. "You resemble my Spike too closely to be anything other than his analogue," she stated. "And I feel secure enough to comfortably state you're not a dog. So . . . what _are_ you?"

Spike puffed his chest out again. "I'm a ferocious . . . fire-breathing . . . _dragon_!"

Applejack just smiled. Rainbow Dash smirked and chuckled, while Rarity indulgently smiled, "Oh Spikey-Wikey," which had the immediate effects of turning Spike's face bright red and Twilight's brows lifting up and joining her forelock.

It was obvious that between the six of them they hadn't a lick of common sense or, for that matter, anything of intellect to discuss, and whatever budding curiosity she'd started feeling about Spike —this world's analogue to her beloved pet— had died aborning with that interchange between him and Rarity.

Perhaps if her interest, or even specialty, had been biology —well, _xeno_biology, she mentally snorted— she might have found them of continuing interest. As it was, they were of no more interest to her than any other person. And she _did_ accept them as being people, not creatures; just different forms than the normal humanoid. She would grant them that much. And they were unusual enough forms that she knew no few of her peers —well, colleagues; she didn't have any "peers"— would be cooing and mooncalfing over them. _Especially_ the unicorns! Fah!

Wrinkling her muzzle she turned back to face Doctor Horse.

With a touch of dismissive frost in her voice she addressed the physician, "As I was _saying_," her nose furrowed, "the evidence supports your Twilight Sparkle having been transported across to my world simultaneous with my transference here. I believe that the gateway here had been powered down after she and _this_ Sunset Shimmer had arrived, but I —again, evidently— was able to re-energize it from the other end, in my world."

Twilight brushed the tip of her hoof up along the top of her muzzle in a reflexive move to push up her nonexistent glasses. "From what I remember it seems as if the portal initiated a spontaneous transfer; that is, it generated a "bubble", if you will, of transference energy that transported whomever was within its radius of effect. That just happened, it seems, to have been myself and _your_ Twilight Sparkle."

"It will be interesting to see if I can recreate that effect," she confided, "and, of course, other effects, with my equipment here. I'd like to start bringing it over now. I really can't wait to get started!"

Her excitement was growing by leaps and bounds. This land was obviously the source of the strange energy —well, _xeno_energy_ she'd been detecting and analyzing. Somehow some of that energy was leaking over to her world. But here, at the direct source, she'd be able to have ready access to that whenever she wished. Being able to constantly detect and examine the energy here would enable her to far more efficiently document and catalog the rules by which it obeyed. In fact . . .

Her eyes wandered to Doctor's Horse's horn, which was still lightly glowing as he kept his pad and pencil hovering. In fact, she had access to the actual _generators_ of some of that energy. _On-demand_ generators at that, ones that could intelligently adjust their emissions to suit the task. And if those were true, trained skills and not just instinctive, innate talents, that implied rules, and rules were what she was researching! And once she had rules, the mathematics would be easy to deduce and calculate . . .

"What?" she curtly snapped, annoyed at the interruption. She'd heard all five previous, prefatory throat-clearings, but she ignored them. Whatever that little lizard —well, dragon, she supposed— wanted wasn't important enough to disrupt her train of thought. But he just _wouldn't_ give up, and now he'd just lightly poked her in the flank with the tip of a claw!

"Ah . . . Twilight? There's a . . . there's a problem."

Rolling her eyes she huffily sighed. "What sort of problem?"

"Ah," he looked extremely discomfited, scuffing the floor with a paw claw. "It's about going back. You see, um . . ." He trailed off, peeping up at her in obvious distress. "The Mirror. It's broken."

Feeling very confused Twilight repeated, "A _mirror_ is broken?" What did a broken mirror have to do with anything?

"Not _a_ mirror ; _the_ Mirror. The _Crystal Mirror_. The one we use to go back and forth. It's broken."

Twilight felt her expression congeal. She blinked, then shook her head to clear it . . . which not only wasn't helpful but, because of the lump on the back of her head, wound up being detrimental.

"I don't know what happened," the distraught lizard explained. "Maybe Sunset Shimmer does; she was with you after all."

"Then bring her back," Twilight flatly demanded. "It's vital I get that gateway functioning again. I have to know happened; what's wrong with it."

"Whoa whoa whoa!" objected the flamboyantly colored pegasus; the Rainbow Dash one. "Not so fast!"

She gritted her teeth seeing the other four nodding in agreement, even has her heart was starting to pound and her mouth dry out.

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Rainbow Dash," the Rarity unicorn one concurred. "We need to find out what has happened to Princess Celestia first! And, perhaps just as importantly, _why_ it's happened. This could very well be the preparatory strike prior to an attack against Equestria!"

The flutter of fear at the back of Twilight's throat was replaced by a sense of outrage and anger as she heard that name again. It wasn't the first time they'd mentioned a "Celestia" but she'd simply ignored those prior times, her mind focused elsewhere. But, right now, they had her complete and total attention!

_Celestia_

Twilight was shocked at the fire that blazed inside her at that hated, loathed name. Principal Celestia, the individual who, because of her insistence that Twilight learn to socialize, had cost her over _half a year!_ of advanced classes and credits. Whose refusal to sign off on the recommendation that Twilight had needed almost cost her the acceptance she'd received from Everfree University. She hadn't just received that; Twilight had _earned_ that honor, that privilege! She'd _deserved_ it, by dint of all her hard work, her focused efforts, her determined studies, her natural genius and superior intellect.

Gasps echoed in the room as Twilight coldly stated, "I don't care about Celestia," forgetting, at the moment, that this Celestia was not her despised enemy.

Rainbow Dash aggressively bristled. "Well, _we_ care about her!" she snapped. "And she's definitely a lot more important than fixing some stupid mirror just so you can get home and grab your egghead junk!"

But that _wasn't_ the reason Twilight wanted the mirror fixed. Fear again clogged her throat as the real reason —the _only_ reason at this moment— rocked her again. Trembling at the sensation of an icicle at the back of her neck, slowly melting, its frigid tears trickling down her spine and spreading a deathly chill throughout her.

"It's not about my equipment," she got through gritted teeth. There was something about the emotions driving Twilight that pricked at Rarity. She sensed anger, yes, but there was fear there. Real fear, and she didn't understand why. Until . . .

"I have to get back to my dog."

"Your _dog_?" Rainbow Dash barked in astonishment. "Your _dog_ is more important than Princess Celestia?"

It was too late. Rarity suddenly grasped the root of Twilight's fear, but Rainbow Dash's outburst had triggered something inside the upset alicorn.

_Yes, my _dog_,_ Twilight thought. _My Spike. My companion. My best friend. The one person —and I don't _care_ if he is "just a dog", he's a person to me!— in the entire world that brings me comfort. That makes me feel safe and needed. That chases my bad dreams away, that makes me laugh and smile. That never judges me, never expects anything from me, that takes me just as I am._

_And he's home. _Alone_. With NO food, and enough water for two days. If I can't get home . . ._

Her throat painfully tightened.

_If I can't get home he's going to die. _Her mind tried skittering and shying from that but refused to stop throwing reality at her._ No one will just "drop by" to visit. No one ever does. I don't ha . . . have any friends. I don't _want_ them! _

The back of her head started painfully throbbing.

No one was going to even notice she wasn't home because no one ever noticed her. She kept to herself. She probably wouldn't even be missed until it was time to submit another draft of her thesis.

_The best that she could hope for would be that Sunset Shimmer somehow heard Spike if he started whining from hunger. And that was a terrible hope, for Twilight was sure Sunset Shimmer would either turn Spike over to the Pound or, more horribly _—_and much more likely_— _turn him over to one of the animal labs as an experimental subject._

_Spike, _she silently cried,_ Oh God Spike! You trusted me and now I've betrayed you!_

"I think someone is having a _lee_-tle problem with priorities," Rainbow Dash snarkily said.

"Rainbow Dash!" Rarity scolded, sounding shocked and appalled.

And that was when everything went very, _very_ bad.

* * *

><p>"Here. Drink this."<p>

Twilight gently shook her head, sweeping away the fugue remnants of her recollections. Hovering before her was a small glass tumbler halfway filled with a shimmering pale violet liquid. "I don't suppose it's hemlock, is it?" she asked in a terribly numb tone.

Doctor Horse gave her a stern look. "I don't know what "hemlock" is, but assuming it's what I _think_ you mean that's a very poor joke."

She actually hung her head, and her apology was so soft it was barely audible.

"It's a mild analgesic," he informed her. "And an even milder sedative. And once you've gotten that inside you for a bit you're going to have a small bowl of bran and oat mash."

Lipping the straw that was in the glass Twilight sipped and swallowed, bracing for something vile and nasty and being pleasantly surprised to discover quite the opposite.

"I have another medicine to recommend, but I wasn't about to prescribe it without consulting with you first."

Licking her lips after having drawn up the last of the brew Twilight quizzically gazed at him. He returned her gaze with the seriousness she deserved. "There are potions we prescribe, usually for unicorns running high fevers, because often hallucinations occur concurrent with those fevers." Peering down his glasses he continued. "They are of varying strengths, but what they do is help dampen the magics —inherent _or_ trained— of unicorns. Wait," he said, holding up a forehoof.

"It has nothing at all to do with what happened earlier," he clarified. "I'm not wishing to prescribe it out of fear of you, or what you might do."

_You _should, she thought. _Oh, you really, really _should_!_

"What I'm recommending is one of the mid-grade ones. One strong enough to _in_hibit your abilities without _pro_hibiting them. To give you some time to regain your balance and discover your control."

Twilight sadly smiled. "Control, Doctor? After all _this_? You think I have _control_?" she choked back a sob.

"Control . . . discipline . . . does it matter what term I use? I find it rather hard to believe that a scientist of your caliber hasn't learned discipline. Oh yes," he softly smiled. "We have scientists here, too. And you did a lot of talking to yourself these last few hours; I'm afraid I couldn't help overhearing you. More to the point, I _needed_ to overhear you. You've accomplished quite a bit in your short life. So, yes, I'm quite sure you have the necessary discipline. You just need a "breather" to get that under control."

Her lips quirked. "Does it taste as good as this one did?"


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Once Spike had been satisfied that the visitors were, indeed, just that —guests rather than intruders— he was ecstatic, frisking about with evident joy. Everyone came in for their fair share of sniffs and licks, and the poor puppy seemed almost overwhelmed by the cornucopia of choices.

Pinkie Pie had ordered several large pizzas, along with some two-liter bottles of assorted soda pop and some sort of gooey chocolate dessert confection. While they waited for the food to arrive Wiz Kid and Velvet Sky continued delving deep into the material found in the main 'bedroom' laboratory. Applejack, Pinkie Pie and Twilight felt a bit awkward, as there was literally no place to sit except for the chairs the kids were using, Wiz Kid having purloined the living room desk chair for his own use in the lab room.

"I feel like Ah'm in Grandma Rich's parlour," Applejack clucked, shaking her head as she looked around. "Y'all were afeered t' brush up against anything and disturb it."

She nodded in understanding. It really did feel like the mausoleum-museum Pinkie Pie had —in her own unique and inimitable fashion— called it. Perhaps this environment might have, once, been a comfortable one for Twilight, but after the last few years this felt . . . barren. Cheerless. Soulless. This wasn't a home, someplace to _live_; this was lifeless, sterile, simply someplace to _work_.

Nothing was in disrepair, and it wasn't as if it was furnished in second-hand make-do. But the prioritization of furnishings was glaringly obvious: anything that dealt with comfort came a very clear second to that of functionality and research. Homeyness wasn't even in the running.

Actually, Twilight realized, she'd never been _this_ bad. That might have been because Spike would never have permitted her sinking that deeply into asceticism, or perhaps Princess Celestia had seen to it that Twilight hadn't ever descended that far. It was probably a combination of the two, she considered.

Yes, she had kept to herself. And, yes, she had turned down every offer to socialize that had come her way. And, yes, research and study were her world. But, even then, she'd had a comfortable bed, even a cozy _bedroom_. She'd had vases of fresh flowers (thanks Spike!). Snacks and drinks. Good, tasty meals. Yes, she'd had books or study articles with her when she did infrequently go out, but she'd also enjoyed being outdoors and feeling the warmth of the sun against her coat while she read or studied. She'd even gone on occasional day shopping or field trips to Canterlot. Granted, usually Princess Celestia had needed to drag her out of her studies, kicking and screaming —sometimes quite literally; Twilight blushed in memory— but once she'd actually bowed to the inevitable she'd actually enjoyed her times out and about.

Somehow, Twilight sadly thought as she slowly gazed around the room again, she didn't think this Twilight was so fortunate. _This_ Twilight was driving herself, and _hard_; utterly mono-focused, with an intensity that she found disturbing.

Suddenly she gasped, fingers flying up to her mouth. "Is something wrong Twalaight?" Applejack asked, sounding concerned.

"No, no. I'm OK. Nothing's wrong, I just thought of something." At least she _hoped_ she was being honest and that nothing was wrong. Her eyes wandered around the room again, and shivered as she wondered what a person this driven might do . . .

. . . when they had all the power of an alicorn at their beck and call.

The pizzas were almost gone when Velvet Sky and Wiz Kid trudged into the kitchenette. "Oh good!" Wiz said. "I'm starving."

Velvet nodded as she vainly looked about for plates. "Me too."

"Well, why in tarnation didn't y'all grab some slices and take 'em with you?" Applejack asked.

Wiz shrugged, tapping Velvet on the shoulder and handing her a cheap paper plate as he replied, "Didn't want to make a mess in her lab, or take a chance spilling sauce or soda on her papers."

"Where's Pinkie Pie?" asked Velvet as she slipped a slice of green pepper, onion, mushroom and black olives onto her plate, being careful since it was rather flimsy.

"She took Spike out for a walk," Twilight replied. "I'm not sure who actually was walking who: Pinkie Pie or Spike," she grinned.

Wiz and Velvet sat their plates atop the kitchen counter, using it as their table, then they each found some foam cups, filled them with ice and then topped them off with their preferred soda. As eager as Twilight was for news she kept quiet, wanting to give them time to eat in peace.

"I hate cold pizza," Wiz Kid grumbled.

"Really?" Velvet replied. "I love cold pizza. Especially for breakfast!"

Wiz made a gagging sound as he stuck out his tongue. "That's really gross Vel."

"Plebeian."

"Barbarian."

"Neanderthal."

"Philistine."

"Jock."

Wiz clutched his chest with a fist. "That's just _mean!_"

Applejack gave Twilight a look, and then the two of them smothered grins.

The two of them tore through the remaining slices like Spike through gems. Towards the end they looked apologetically at Twilight, but she just smiled and waved them on. Finally, though, they finished off the final piece, splitting it between themselves. Refilling their cups they then crumpled up the plates and tossed them in the trash can underneath the sink before washing up at the sink. The wadded paper towels they dried with joined the plates, and at last they were ready to report their findings.

_Such as it is_, they warned. And then they began.

* * *

><p>"So that's it Twilight," Wiz concluded. He and Velvet Sky exchanged glances before they both turned their focus back to Twilight. "I know we have reputations for being techno-geeks," he said. "But what we've managed to read so far, with just the papers and documents we found on her desk and workstations, is way above our heads."<p>

"I —well, the both of us, actually," Velvet clarified, "understand the basics of what this Twilight was working on. But this is really advanced mathematics and theories."

"It's like knowing algebra really well, and then trying to make sense out of calculus, having never even _seen_ calculus before or knowing that it even existed."

"Get's even worse," Velvet warned. "It very much looks as if she's inventing an entirely brand-new branch of theoretical physics."

Taking a sip of soda Wiz continued. "An even bigger problem is that all three of her laptops as well as her desktop are password protected. The desktop looks like it's hardwired into the university network, too."

"All the really important, very critical data is probably stored in the school's mainframes."

"So unless we can crack her passwords, all that information might as well be on the moon."

Velvet nibbled her lower lip, looking very unhappy; as did Wiz, for that matter. "We really hate to tell you this Twilight," she said, "but I don't think there's very much we can do at this end."

Twilight felt a ball of lead forming in her stomach as Wiz Kid forlornly finished. "If there's any help coming, we're afraid it's going to have to come from their side."

* * *

><p>It was very quiet. <em>Too<em> quiet, to be honest. Twilight _really_ wished Pinkie Pie hadn't described here as a mausomuseum because, right now, she had the uncanny, shivery feeling of being in a tomb.

After Wiz Kid and Velvet Sky had unhappily given their report a somewhat funereal gloom settled on the group. When even Pinkie Pie dejectedly sighs, you _know_ it's bad!

Twilight just felt . . . lost. Absolutely, incredibly, one hundred percent lost. She always had a plan for anything and everything. Heck, she even had plans for making _plans_!

But not this time.

She didn't have her magic. She knew very little about this world. Other than her friends and classmates, she had no resources she could call upon. She was literally completely dependent on others, a state of affairs that was both uncomfortable and frightening to her.

She had no direction. The last two times she'd traveled here she had a very clear idea of what was needed: the first time had been to recover her stolen crown from Sunset Shimmer, and the second time had been to break the spell the Sirens had cast on her classmates and then see to it that they could never do so again. But this time she had no goal.

Well, figuring out a way home was her goal, true, except she had no idea how to do that, and absolutely no skills to achieve that even if she had any ideas how to do so!

Applejack had helped her drag the cot out into the living room before she'd finally left for the evening, which is where she was currently sitting, Spike happily curled up on her lap and enjoying the gentle stroking. Just the idea of sleeping in the restricted, closeted space where the bed —generous description that that was— had been placed had been enough to give Twilight the willies, and she'd finally broken down and almost begged her friend to help her wrestle it out somewhere more open.

Silent tears slowly trickled down Twilight's cheeks as she gently petted the wriggling dog. From the moment she'd seen that fractured statue base something inside of her had realized a terrible fact: she was stranded here, and very likely for good. Without being arrogant Twilight knew she was this generation's paramount magical researcher _and_ practitioner. In fact, she was very likely the most powerful unicorn _ever_ in both those respects save for their Royal Highnesses Celestia and Luna.

Well, at least with regards to pure research, anyway; her actual Mastery still had a lot of room for improvement (granted, Twilight would always see room for personal improvement no matter how well she achieved something) regarding experience and skill. She might have a greater potential than even Starswirl the Bearded, but she certainly hadn't achieved his expertise!

But all that raw potential, all her prowess, meant nothing in this world, the only Equestrian magic here being the residue of what she'd left behind on her first visit, the power that manifested whenever she and her friends played magic.

She'd always known what she was going to do, always known what direction to go. She might not have been able to completely assure success, but that had never stopped her attempts. From the moment as a foal she'd seen Princess Celestia raising the sun during the Summer Sun Celebration, Twilight had known what her calling had been: magic. She'd bent all her focus toward that: Reading; Studying; Practicing. All of that, at first, on her own, for she had been considered far too young to attend any practical school of magic at the time.

That hadn't deterred her at all.

But she'd never realized just how much she'd managed to achieve because of the support structure she'd always taken for granted, an epiphany that she'd only just now been gifted with, and one which was making her feel very small and ungrateful.

First there were her parents. They'd always been there for her, a silent presence that Twilight had always presumed. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes as she realized just how important a part they'd played in her life. And yet, had she truly ever _told_ them that? Told them how just knowing they were there, ready to stand with her no matter what, whenever she needed them, had been so powerful? Just that awareness had allowed Twilight to face _anything_ on all four hooves.

Then there was her brother, Shining Armor. Her big brother, and her very best —actually, at the time, her _only_— friend. Her parents may have been the ones to give her four strong hooves to stand on, but her brother had been the one to give her _wings _with which to soar_._

And then there was Princess Celestia, her —albeit, former— teacher. But she'd been more than a mere teacher; she'd also been her mentor, and, yes, her _friend_. In more than a few ways she'd been more a second mother to Twilight than "just" a teacher; she'd learned far more "life lessons" at the hooves of Princess Celestia than anywhere else.

And she could never —_would_ never— forget Spike. Yes, he was her "Number One Assistant". But he was far more than that; at times her conscience, at times her anchor, and at times her confidant. But no matter what, he'd _always_ been her friend.

She'd never truly taken any of them for granted. But she had always, subliminally, counted on their reassuring presence, knowing they were always there if, and when, needed.

Only now . . . they _weren't_.

A lump formed in her throat. Twilight very badly wanted nothing more at this moment than the reassuring presence of her father; wanted nothing more than to feel his strong, vigilant body as she pressed against him, feeling his chin resting atop her head as he sheltered, protected and comforted her.

Spike stopped wriggling. He softly whined as he squirmed about to look at her. Twilight paused in her stroking, and Spike shifted about, lifting up a bit and resting paws against her chest as he gently licked the tears from her chin. Tremulously smiling she gave the endearing dog a hug. No, he wasn't _her_ Spike, but he was comforting all the same.

She needed that comfort at the moment. Quite badly, in fact.

When they had made plans earlier this afternoon Twilight hadn't really thought about the —not-so-little, as it was turning out— fact that she'd be staying, and sleeping, all alone. She hadn't done that _ever_; Spike, at least, had always been nearby, usually within earshot.

It had been an uncomfortable atmosphere after Wiz Kid and Velvet Sky had rendered their disclosures. They'd felt as if they'd failed Twilight, and both of them had very good ideas what that failure was likely to mean for their friend's future. Applejack and Pinkie Pie had fared no better and, in some ways, had coped even worse, for they had no real contributions to offer other than moral support . . . which was actually worth a great deal to her, to be honest.

Matters had then shifted to the more practical ones of mundane logistics. For instance, where was Twilight intending to stay?

The last two times she'd visited here for longer than a day she'd either stayed in Canterlot High's library or had overnighted at Pinkie Pie's. But, _this_ time, unless she was very, very lucky, she wasn't going to be here for just a day or two.

Staying in Canterlot High School was, of course, out of the question as it was closed for the summer, while staying with Pinkie Pie, or Applejack, or any of her other friends' homes for more than a day or two would be problematical at best. It was one thing to have a friend visit for a day or two, perhaps over the weekend, and quite another to explain away a more permanent boarder.

Besides, Twilight wasn't at all comfortable about leaving Spike alone except for brief visits to fill his bowls and go for walkies. From what she'd observed during their explorations the other Twilight doted on her dog, which meant Spike would pine, and possibly sicken, if left alone for long periods of time. Because of that she'd decided it would be best if she simply stayed here, even though that meant she'd be far beyond simple walking distance of her friends.

Speaking of walking distance, there was the not-so-simple matter of how her friends would be returning home. Pinkie Pie was the one to point out that there'd been _two_ sets of keys on the ring, and after a bit of exploration outside had discovered the small, two-door economy car that also belonged to this Twilight. Much like her furnishings the vehicle was a spartan, bare-to-the-bones car, yet kept scrupulously neat and meticulously maintained. After a bit of discussion it was decided that Pinkie Pie would "borrow" said car for the duration. It did Twilight no good, after all, since she had no idea how to drive . . . even if she _did_ have a license to do so.

So Pinkie Pie drove Velvet Sky and Wiz Kid back to their homes, with Applejack riding shotgun. They'd promised to return as soon as they'd dropped the two off, but even with that promise watching them drive off and leave her alone had been an extremely uncomfortable, unsettling sensation.

True to their word, they hadn't been gone very long. But when she'd opened the door to their knock she realized they hadn't simply gone straight back and forth.

"C'mon Twalaight," Applejack said as she passed through the door with several paper grocery bags in her arms. "Didja think we were gonna let you starve?" Pinkie Pie grinned as she skipped along behind, several plastic bags dangling from her hands.

They'd brought milk, juice, cookies, bread, peanut butter, various jams and marmalades, microwavable oatmeal, herbal teas and hot cocoa mixes. That came from Applejack's bounty. Pinkie Pie's, on the other hand . . .

Grinning ear to ear Pinkie Pie started removing items from her bags: three small desk lamps, several battered paperback novels of potentially-dubious genres, an enormous quilt, two pair of pajamas, and a pair of alligator-shaped slippers.

"Sorry we don't have more," Applejack apologized. "T'morrow, though, Pinkie Pah and Ah'll stop by mah place and pick up a coupla extry chairs and stuff. Help make this a bit more homey-like."

Before they'd left for the night they'd stocked her larder and helped shift some furniture about to give her more open space in the living room. Applejack showed her how to use the telephone, and also gave her a slip of paper with the names and phone numbers of her friends, reminding her that Rarity and Rainbow Dash were away on vacation or summer camp and couldn't be reached at those numbers until they returned. Pinkie Pie removed the car keys from the keyring, handing it back to Twilight since it held both the mobile lab van keys as well as her door key. They hadn't as yet determined what the remaining keys were for. Pinkie Pie also handed back Twilight's ID card, otherwise she'd be locked out of the building when she left it to take Spike on his walks.

Both seemed reluctant to leave. Twilight felt just as loathe but finally gave them each a hug before sending them on their way, profusely thanking them once again for their thoughtfulness and generosity.

She'd had a meal of peanut-butter-and-grape-jam, with a big glass of milk, then had fed Spike before taking him out for a final walk. Thankfully Pinkie Pie had also explained what "walking a dog" entailed, so she wasn't unprepared for the certain eventualities that had occurred.

But now it was late at night, and there wasn't anything to distract her from the crushing sense of loneliness that was pressing down on her like a smothering concrete blanket.

A harsh, rasping buzz had her squeal and jump, her motion startling Spike, who slid off her lap and onto the floor. "Shhhh!" she hushed, holding a finger to her lips as she'd seen her friends do —mostly to Pinkie Pie— to quiet Spike, frightened as he gave a sharp bark. Twilight shivered, recalling the sinister gleam to (this world's) Sunset Shimmer's eyes as she threatened to have her dog taken away if he was a disturbance again.

Standing up she looked around, puzzled and confused. Just what _had_ made that sound? It seemed to have come from over near the front door, so she slowly started heading that way, carefully examining things.

When it buzzed a second time she just flinched, surprised again. This time, though, she made out the source of the coarse sound: a palm-sized square of brushed stainless steel attached by four screws to the wall alongside the door, the left side perforated by a pattern of small holes while the right side had two vertically-placed pushbuttons, one larger than the other.

She was bending over and scrutinizing the curious object when it buzzed again. This time she _did_ squeal, jerking back and almost landing on her rump. "Just what _is_ this thing Spike?" she muttered, approaching the noisy fixture. Reaching out she prodded the larger of the two buttons. It made a buzz, too, just a lighter, gentler version of what she'd been hearing.

"Huh," she muttered again. "That's weird." It hadn't seemed to do anything, and she simply couldn't deduce its purpose. "Let's try this one," she said to herself, action suiting word as she then depressed the smaller of the two. Doing so simply had the plate start making staticky sounds. "This world has some really str-_aange_ things Spike," Twilight muttered.

The only reason she didn't jump and squeal when there came a tap at the door was because it was so soft and light she didn't think, at first, it was _her_ door being knocked upon. Straightening up from her useless investigation of that pointless device she quizzically gazed at the door. It was only because Spike had trotted over there that Twilight realized that, yes indeed, it had been her door after all.

Opening the door a crack, nervous about just whom might be wishing admittance, she was astonished to discover . . .

"_Fluttershy?_"

Fluttershy cutely squeaked in surprise, not having seen the door crack open. "Ummm . . . Hi?" she timidly said. "I . . . I do hope I'm not interrupting anything, or being a bother?"

Twilight opened the door wide, and motioned for her to enter. Spike took one look at Fluttershy and started frisking about, tail wagging as he gave little leaps. "Oh my!" she enthused. "What a cute little doggy!"

Not wanting to draw any attention from _anyone_, Twilight quickly ushered her friend inside then quickly closed the door. Fluttershy was already crouched down and giving Spike the tummy-rub of his life. "Who's a good little boy? You are! Yes you are! Yes you are!"

"Fluttershy, ah . . . what are you _doing_ here? Not that I mind!" she hastily added, seeing her face fall. "I . . . I'm just surprised is all. I wasn't expecting anyone."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here earlier," she apologized, her voice so soft Twilight was having a difficult time hearing her. "I didn't find out about things until a couple of hours ago," she explained. "And the bus only runs once an hour this time of night. Pinkie Pie said you were staying here, mostly to help keep Spike company so he didn't get lonely," and she gazed up at Twilight with eyes of guileless veneration. "So I thought you might like some company, too."

Only now did Twilight noticed the rolled-up sleeping bag that Fluttershy had carried in with her. "If . . . if you don't mind, that it," she timidly whispered, ducking her head so that her hair fell across her face, as Twilight's silence only increased her timorousness. "I . . . I can always go home of you do."

She started shrinking in on herself as Twilight remained silent. "I . . . I'm sorry. I guess I sho—"

Twilight simply dropped to her knees alongside her friend, reaching out and grasping Fluttershy in so tight an embrace it made her squeak. Burying her head against her startled friend's shoulder Twilight started quietly sobbing, holding on to her as if for dear life.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

"Urgle."

Sunset Shimmer slowly roused, feeling extremely wretched. She didn't remember coming down with a virus, but the last time she'd felt this drained and miserable she'd come down with a case of influenza.

"Erf?"

She started stretching, but arms and legs went in unexpected directions.

"Ah."

For a moment she started panicking, but then long dormant instincts and feelings roused. It had been years since she'd woken up as a unicorn instead of a human, and limbs simply stretched differently in those forms.

Sunset Shimmer sharply gasped, consciousness breaching in moments all the way up from the torpid depths she'd just been floating within. Rolling onto her barrel, legs tucked under her, she groggily blinked the dregs of lethargy from her eyes. This time it was difficult to remain calm as she felt that unaccustomed weakness roll over her in dizzying waves.

_Wha . . . what's happening?_ she woozily thought. _Where am I?_

Within a few moments her vision stopped swimming, and Sunset Shimmer looked about the room she was in, feeling completely lost and having no idea where she was or even how she'd gotten there to start with.

The room itself was cozily dim without being drearily gloomy. Circular in shape, roughly thirty paces in diameter, the walls were smooth interlocking stones of varying sizes, fitted so close together a needle could not have entered their joins. The overall color scheme was deep blue and indigo, with occasional deeper shadings of purple and lighter ones of ultramarine.

She was lying atop a round bed about five paces in diameter and shoulder high, the frame of highly polished ebony, the mattress —_extremely_ plush and comfortable— resting within that frame, and covered in sheets of sheer satin of a black so dark, so intense, it appeared blue.

The only spot of contrasting color was across the room: a rectangular painting, four times as high as it was wide, the frame of lacquered yellowheart, while the painting itself . . .

Was of Princess Celestia, her pose captured at the moment during the Summer Sun Celebration when she was hovering midair, limbs and wings outstretched to their fullest, the sun blazing directly behind her, a look of beatific joy on her face.

She was still trying to make sense of everything when she heard a soft cough alongside her, then a decidedly masculine voice murmur, "Feeling better?" Her head whipped around, and she found herself staring right at . . .

_Oh my._

Sunset Shimmer's breath caught in her chest, her eyes widened. Standing at the side of the bed and gazing alertly down at her was a most unusual pony.

Except, she realized, it wasn't truly a pony at all.

"You're . . . you're . . .," she stuttered, and his face tightened as his golden eyes turned opaque, expecting the typical reaction. "You're _cute_."

Her face abruptly burned, while he . . . well, his eyes widened in astonishment, furred ears swiveling backwards as his professional composure took a quite unexpected hit.

She hadn't meant to say that at all. She'd _meant_ to say '_You're a _thestral'_ . . ._

Because that's exactly what he was.

There was a sharp bark of laughter at her other side. Sunset Shimmer jerked her head around only to see a second one standing there, watching her. This one, a female, openly grinned. "Not exactly the reception we usually get, I'll admit."

She was garbed exactly as the other, both wearing an ornamental chest plate emblazoned with an oval escutcheon whose design was of a light blue eye with a vertical-slit dark blue pupil, while draped over their backs were their duty uniforms: saddlecloths of violet linen bordered in light cornflower and trimmed with a thin edge of blue so light it appeared almost white.

They weren't just garbed the same, they looked the same. Unlike all the ponies —earth, unicorn, pegasus, and even alicorn— she was familiar with, these two were virtually identical in coloration, and in mane and tail style.

"Forgive me if I choose not to complain," the first one drolly replied. His expression immediately returned to consummate professional, his voice shifting back to pure respect as he addressed Sunset Shimmer. "Allow me to introduce ourselves. I'm Crescent, that one over there is Harvest."

"His sister," she piped up.

A look of long-suffering flashed a moment across his face before he continued. "We're two of Princess Luna's _personal_ guards," he gently but unmistakably emphasized. "And this is Her private quarters. Our Lady has ordered us to watch over you."

She gave a little bob of the head in response. She heard what he was saying, true, but she simply couldn't look away from him. His eyes —well, hers, too; not that she was focusing on her— were this incredible, almost luminescent, gold, whose pupils were indisputably slit, exactly like a feline's during the day. His coat was a luxurious taupe that just begged to have one's cheek rubbed against it, while his mane and tail matched each other in coloration —in his case, both being a light blue— with the mane being rather short and rugged-looking in a decidedly appealing fashion.

She knew what thestrals were, of course. What student of magic didn't? But until Princess Luna's return they hadn't been seen in, well, _centuries_; well, there'd been no _confirmed_ sightings, anyway. There'd been whispers about the reasons about why there'd been no confirmations . . . rather _gruesome_ explanations, actually.

Then again, for her entire Equestrian life, Princess Luna had also been a legend, along with Nightmare Moon. And as it turned out, neither of _them_ had been legendary at all!

But although she'd been abstractly aware of Nightmare Moon's defeat and Princess Luna's subsequent redemption —Princess Twilight having updated her on recent events— she'd never really thought of those events or personages except as historical bits of information, which is why meeting Princess Luna face-to-face had come as quite the shock. But, even having now met Princess Celestia's younger sister —the Princess of the Night, the co-ruler of Equestria— Sunset Shimmer hadn't thought much about what else that might have entailed.

Little things, like, oh, I-don't-know . . . the return of her _own_ Royal Guards?

Unlike her older sister, Princess Luna's royal guards were exclusively thestrals —or, as they were more informally (and semi-derogatorily) called, bat-ponies, because their wings, unlike those of pegasus ponies, indeed resembled those of a bat or dragon, leathery rather than feathered.

Sunset Shimmer had never, not even in her wildest dreams, envisaged seeing an actual thestral. Yet here she was doing just that and, instead of being panic-stricken . . . granted, her heart was thudding like a bass drum, but it certainly wasn't out of atavistic terror!

Suddenly she gasped. "Princess Celestia!" she cried out, lunging upwards. Before she cleared the bed, though, her legs collapsed under her, pitching her forward. Helplessly, she watched the hard stone floor rising up to meet her head . . .

"Easy now!" Crescent sharply cried, leaping forward and grabbing Sunset Shimmer before she landed chin-first on the floor. Gripping her just under the forelegs he grunted as her weight hit him, but other than that it was like hitting stone, he was that muscled. Her head wound up just under his chin and against his chest, and even through the terrible fear about Princess Celestia that had struck her, the first thing that went though her head was _My goodness! He even _smells_ nice!_

"Easy now," he repeated, his voice softer as he helped her back onto the bed. Harvest moved up on her other side and assisted settling her down.

"But Princess Celestia needs me!" she cried out. She started to struggle, to force her way up and out, but stilled as Crescent held up a hoof.

"You've been down for the count for an entire day," he bluntly told her. "Princess Celestia is being taken care of," he assured her. "You, _also_, need being taken care of." There was an odd glow of respect in his lucent eyes. "Our Lady commanded us to watch over, guard and protect you," he informed, then his voice turned wheedling, "You don't want Her disappointed in us, do you?"

Sunset Shimmer gave a tiny shake of her head. No. No, one of the very few things she'd ever wish on anyone was for Nigh— Princess Luna to be upset with them! Still . . .

"What happened to me? I . . . I don't remember."

Crescent looked at Harvest who gave a short nod in reply. "The hour is almost nigh anyway," she said. "I'll just let them know she's awake. They wanted to be informed of that anyway." With that she gave Sunset Shimmer a deeper bow of the head before exiting the room.

Sunset Shimmer gave Crescent a curious look. "The 'hour is almost nigh'?" she asked.

The Lunar Guard nodded as he replied. "Your physicians have been examining you once every hour since your collapse." He gave her a grave look. "Our Lady has been almost as attentive. And while it might not be my place to say so, it is my belief that if she were not torn between duty to Equestria and love of her sister, Our Lady would have remained at thy bedside."

"Now, as to what has happened to you . . .," he trailed off, looking thoughtful. Sunset Shimmer marefully struggled to ignore the thudding heart gazing at his profile was inducing. "My understanding is that you had been, at Our Lady's request, examining her sister, Princess Celestia, and that in the course of thy examination you were struck down in a similar manner as the Princess of the Sun had been smote."

Pausing for a moment he then gazed back down at her, and there was no mistaking the respect in those eyes. "Our Lady, once the summoned physicians determined you were no longer in immediate danger of perishing, commanded that you be brought to her personal quarters and cared for. That, I am afraid," he apologized, "is all that I know."

She slowly nodded, half-focused on his words as she, herself, was trying to dredge up memories of what had happened. But then something he'd just said struck her.

Her head jerked up and around, staring at him with wide, alarmed eyes. "Excuse me," she said, surprised her voice sounded so calm, "but did you just say 'immediate danger of perishing'?" Her voice cracked at the final word, but she wasn't in the least ashamed that it had.

He simply nodded, his expression both grave and deferential.

_What in the name of Chaos _happened? she anxiously puzzled. _I remember everything seeming perfectly normal —well, except that Princess Celestia was stone cold unconscious and completely unresponsive, that is! There was no sign of anything physically wrong. There was no sign of any active, or passive, magic. In fact, there hadn't been any trace of magic about her. I remember thinking how wrong that felt. And then I'd . . ._

She abruptly surged upwards, startling Crescent. "_I know what the problem is!_" she cried out. "And I think I can fix it!" She struggled to get her hooves under her but simply couldn't find the energy to do so. Her legs felt like limp noodles, and the rest of her wasn't feeling any stronger.

She burst into anxious, frustrated tears. She had to, simply had to, get to Princess Celestia! But her body was refusing to rise to the demands Sunset Shimmer needed from it!

Lifting her head she gazed at Crescent, tears filling her eyes. "Please! Oh _please_!" she implored. "You have to help me get to Princess Celestia!"

Before the Lunar Guard had a chance to reply another voice spoke up, this one from the doorway that had just opened. "I am pleased to see thee awake Sunset Shimmer," spoke Princess Luna. And, in fact, exhausted as she looked it was clear she wasn't simply speaking the empty, formal words as a courtier might. Stepping to one side she cleared the way for the two _extremely_ senior physicians who trailed in her wake.

"Discourteous as this mayhaps be, imposing upon thee in thy distress, natheless I must press thee, for thy words bring lightness to mine heart. Doth this mean thou knoweth what is wrong with mine sister?"

Sunset Shimmer blinked, the rich, rolling archaic cadence even stronger than before. Then again, Princess Luna looked even more haggard, exhausted and stressed than before. Perhaps that was it.

Shifting up so she was resting on her barrel, legs tucked up beneath, she somberly gazed at The Princess of The Night who stood there before her. At each side of Sunset Shimmer was one of the physicians, both wordlessly muttering under their breath as they examined her. "I . . . I _think_ so, yes, Your Highness," she haltingly began.

Starting from when she'd first commenced examining Princess Celestia, Sunset Shimmer related what she'd done, how she'd done it, and what she'd discovered. "I couldn't find anything wrong at all, Your Highness," she admitted. "But something kept nagging at me. I wish I could tell you I'd actually reasoned it out at the end," she confessed, "but I think it was mostly pure dumb luck."

The physicians were done their examinations by now and were listening every bit as intently as Princess Luna, and all three of them seemed to highly regard —based upon their expressions, anyway— that honestly.

And —again, based upon their expressions— they seem disinclined to believe dumb luck had anything to do with matters.

"It's not easy to do," she continued, "but it's not hard to do either: I reexamined Princess Celestia using both normal _and_ mage sight." One of the physicians made a swift sharp inhale, while the other just nodded to himself. "When I did, I noticed something very odd about her cutie mark. With normal sight it was clearly visible; with mage sight it was, well . . .," she trailed off, nibbling her lower lip as she tried to put that into words. "It was like it wasn't really there. It looked like a heat mirage: shimmering and indistinct; there _and_ not there."

She paused then, this last part not all that clearly recollected. "Once I'd noticed that, I remember thinking I wanted to really take a closer look at her cutie mark using my mage powers," she slowly stated then, frustrated, "That's all I clearly remember."

She looked back up then, a look of fierce determination in her eyes. "I might not remember exactly what happened, but nevertheless I _know_ what happened." She paused a moment before she continued, that fierce look even harder, her voice grim and determined. "I know why I feel the way I do: my magic; it's all gone."

The physicians blinked, startled, then hastened over and started poking and prodding again. But Sunset Shimmer had no attention to spare for them. Her eyes never left Princess Luna's. "That has to be what's wrong with Princess Celestia: her magic has been completely drained, too." Luna's eyes widened, alarmed and a touch fearful. "There's something about her cutie mark that's doing it," she continued. "Her magic was emptied through that; it's most likely _still_ being drained through that. I don't know how, and I don't know why," she admitted, "but I think I can help stop that. Or, at the very least, mitigate the effects."

Then she burst into frustrated tears, punching the mattress with a hoof. "Except I can't! Because _I've_ no magic anymore either!"


End file.
